


Under My Skin

by Havepenwillimagine (starchan007)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Casual Sex, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchan007/pseuds/Havepenwillimagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin's life is pretty good; he owns a tattoo parlor with his two best friends and can't see himself needing much more. And then some drunk asshole comes in asking for a tattoo. Artist's choice, he says. Armin suggests a realistic looking penis on the side of his face to match his personality and figures it's the last he'll see of him once he walks out. But it's not, and he might be the one to make Armin realize that tattoos aren't the only permanent things in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh wow man, that looks totally wicked!”

Armin lowered the mirror back onto his workspace, smiling. 

“Glad you like it so far,” he said.

His current client – a guy in his early twenties named Reiner who had wanted a screaming bald eagle spreading its wings across his shoulders and back and who was already on his second session – nodded. 

“How many more sessions do you think?” he asked as Armin tossed his rubber gloves into the trashcan. Armin considered for a moment. “Well I’d say another five hours at least…we could probably do it in one more, once this is all healed up,” he finally said. The guy looked thrilled. 

“Seriously? That’d be great; it’ll heal up just in time for the summer then!” he said. Armin nodded.

“Just remember to wear lots of sunscreen. The sun will cause the color to fade faster than anything else,” he reminded him. 

They chatted for a few more minutes as Armin cleaned up and then lead him to the front of the store. It was a pretty normal night at their shop; Mikasa was in back with a client, Eren was leaning against the counter flipping through a catalogue. 

“Hey, how’s the tat coming?” he asked. 

“Man, you should see this thing. I don’t understand how he does it,” Reiner boasted. 

Armin flushed, ducking his head a little as he rifled through the cabinet to pull out Reiner’s folder so he could pay for the session. He knew he was good at what he did, but he still couldn’t help turning a bit red when someone praised him that way. 

“Yeah, he certainly is one of the best,” Eren agreed. “Right behind me,” he added, tossing him a wink. 

Armin rolled his eyes. He was just handing Reiner a payment receipt for the last four hours when the door pushed open. Two guys stumbled in, one of them with his arm draped over the other. The stench of alcohol followed them in off the street. 

“Hey, me and my buddy here want to get a tattoo,” one of them said. 

He was fairly tall with lightly tanned skin and an undercut that might’ve looked good if it hadn’t been all mussed and sticking up in the wrong places. His button up shirt had the top two buttons undone, showing a hint of the lightly tanned skin that lay beneath it. But it wrinkled and only half tucked in. Maybe he might’ve looked sort of sexy if he wasn’t so hammered. 

“What about you blondie? You do tattoos?” he asked. 

Something about the way he was looking at Armin caught his attention. Beside him, Armin felt Eren tense but Armin smiled wryly at him and motioned for him to finish up with Reiner. He had this. 

“I sure do, big boy,” he all but purred as he moved down the counter to where the other two approached. 

Armin hadn’t paid the dark haired friend much attention until then, but he could see that while he was drunk too, he was better at hiding it. Or maybe he just hadn’t had as much as his friend, because he almost looked uncomfortable. The brunet was leaning against the counter and Armin moved to stand even with him on the other side. 

“What kind of tattoo would you like?” he asked, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

He could feel Eren and Reiner watching him too, but Reiner was more apprehensive than Eren now. 

“If you’re doing it? Artist’s choice,” the drunk customer said in what he probably thought was a smooth voice. It still came out slurred, and his breath reeked of booze. Still, Armin continued to smile pleasantly at him. 

“Artist’s choice, huh?” he asked tucking a few stray pieces of hair behind one of his gaged ears. “What about….,” he paused, tracing a finger down the side of the man’s cheek and then continued, “a great big realistic looking dick on the side of your face?” he suggested sweetly. 

The man recoiled as if Armin had slapped him, the smile being replaced by a look of humiliation and anger. Armin stood up straight, crossing his arms across his chest as his eyes hardened. 

“We don’t tattoo drunks,” he said firmly. “And I don’t like being called blondie.” 

Across the room Eren and Reiner whooped with laughter. The man glared at them. 

“Whatever, asshole. You just lost yourself a couple of paying customers,” he snapped. “Let’s go Marco,” he muttered, grabbing the other by the sleeve. 

The man – apparently named Marco – turned and mouthed an apology at Armin who waved them out the door with an eyeroll. “Wow. That was great,” Reiner said, still gasping for air. 

“You’d be surprised how many drunk idiots we get in here. They like to act like it’s some big loss when we refuse to ink them, but seriously? I’d rather go broke then spend my night with someone like that under my needle,” Armin confessed. Beside him Eren nodded in agreement. 

To his relief the guys from earlier didn’t come back and cause a scene – which had happened more than once when they tossed a client out and he came back with more drunk friends – and the next day was Saturday. They weren’t as busy as usual, but Armin didn’t mind. It left him time to sketch some art for a calf tattoo Eren was going to give him while he manned the desk. He looked up when he heard the bell above the door chime and was more than a little surprised to see one of the men from the previous night step in. It wasn’t the asshole though, it was the other one. The dark haired one. Armin couldn’t remember his name, but he clearly wasn’t drunk this time so Armin was more than willing to talk to him. 

“Hi there,” he said with a smile. 

The man looked somewhere between nervous and embarrassed. 

“Uh, hi,” he said quietly. “I’m uh…I’d like to get a tattoo,” he said. 

Armin raised an eyebrow. 

“For real this time?” he asked, though his tone made it clear he was just teasing lightly. The man’s freckled face turned a bit pink but he nodded. 

“Yes please,” he said more firmly. 

“Well you’ve come to the right place. Did you have anything in mind?” Armin asked, beckoning him over. The man nodded. 

“Birds?” he said, his tone questioning.

Armin smiled and bit his lip, trying not to tease him again. 

“Okay. Any particular design or location in mind?” he asked instead. 

“Oh, yeah, hold on a sec,” the customer said, pulling the bag off his shoulders and rummaging through it for a moment. He finally produced a piece of paper and set it on the counter. “I was thinking something like this, on the inside of my bicep,” he said. 

Armin considered it for a moment and then nodded. 

“Yeah, I can do this, no problem. It should only take about two hours,” he said and then looked up at him again. “Do you have that kind of time?” 

The customer looked startled. 

“Right now?”

Armin shrugged. 

“Why not? I don’t have anything booked. Or did you want to wait?” he asked. The man considered for a moment and then shook his head. 

“No, now is fine,” he said. Then he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and seemed to think about something for a minute. “Um, could I ask you a favor?” 

Armin raised an eyebrow, hoping the guy wasn’t about to ask for a discount or something, but it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Sure,” he said just a little hesitantly.

“I can have someone sit in with me, right?” he asked. Armin nodded. “I know he was kind of a jerk yesterday, but would you mind if my friend Jean came in?” 

Oh. The asshole. Armin thought about it briefly and then shrugged. 

“Sure, I guess. As long as he’s sober.” 

“Oh of course! He’s not usually like that. He just had too much and when I mentioned getting a tattoo he somehow got it in his head that right then would be a good time to do it,” the man – Marco, Armin remembered suddenly – chuckled a little as he pulled out his phone. 

Armin poked his head in back to make sure that Eren or Mikasa were almost done so they could watch the counter. They really needed to hire a receptionist…Their last one, Sasha, had quit a few weeks ago to work at her boyfriend’s bar. Nobody at the parlor blamed her though; the pay was better than they could offer since she’d be working in the kitchen. That woman could work do just about anything with potatoes and nothing went better with beer than fried food; the one area in which Connie’s bar had been lacking. Besides, now when the three of them went over there they were more likely to get discounts. But still, it did make running the shop a bit more difficult; they had to coordinate their customers so that someone was always out manning the counter and it was more than a little inconvenient. But they were managing, more or less. When he came back he began rifling through some paperwork behind the desk.

“It’ll be about twenty minutes before we can start, but you’ve got to fill the paperwork out anyways, and I’ve got to draw up a sketch,” he said. 

Marco frowned. 

“Aren’t you going to use the picture I gave you?” he asked. Armin gave an indulgent smile. 

“Not quite. See, us tattoo artists are a little….finicky. We all have our own styles and whatnot, so it’s rare that we’ll tattoo the exact design someone gives us, since it’s usually a photo or sketch someone else’s work. But I’ll use it as a template and put my own sort of spin on it. And of course, you’ve got final say. It’s going on your skin after all,” he explained. Marco considered this for a moment and then nodded. 

“Okay, you’re the expert,” he said earnestly. Armin nodded to himself. That he was. Twenty minutes later Mikasa had finished up and was ready to take over the counter, Marco had filled out his paperwork and approved Armin’s drawing and Jean was just walking in the door.

“Hey Marco,” he greeted, smiling at him. 

Armin had been right; he was much more attractive now that he was sober. He was wearing a teal shirt with a slight v-neck and khaki shorts. He had pushed a pair of sunglasses up to rest on top of his head when he had walked in. He was attractive, but he seemed a little too clean cut for Armin’s tastes. Then again…he clearly wasn’t above getting slobbering drunk, so maybe he wasn’t so wholesome after all. Armin gave a shake of the head and was about to turn away and have Marco follow him when he caught Jean looking at him. 

“Hey, you’re that guy from the other night, yeah? The one that tossed us out?” he asked. Armin frowned. Was this guy for real? 

“My name is Armin. And you deserved it,” he said, not sure why he felt so defensive all of a sudden. Jean shrugged easily. 

“Not saying I didn’t, Armin, was it? Just wanted to apologize for being a jackass,” he said plainly. Armin peered at him for a moment. 

“Apology accepted. Just try not to act like one while I’m working on your friend here, if you can manage that,” he said dryly. Jean blinked at him and then let out a laugh. 

“Fair enough,” he agreed. For some reason, when Armin turned away he couldn’t help but smile. 

He led Marco and Jean down the back hall to his work space and had Marco take off his shirt before he got to work sterilizing the skin, running a razor over it to make sure all the hair was gone and finally transferring his artwork on. 

“How’s that look?” he asked, motioning for Marco to face the mirror.

Several birds followed each other in mid-flight along the length of Marco’s bicep, each one a little bigger or smaller or with its wings in a different position. 

“It’s great!” Marco said enthusiastically. And then he frowned, something occurring to him. “Um…how badly is this going to hurt?” he asked. Armin stared at him and then quirked an eyebrow. 

“Well, to be one hundred percent honest, it probably won’t be pleasant. I’m assuming this is your first tattoo and you didn’t exactly pick a low-pain spot,” he admitted. 

Marco paled and for a second Armin was sure he was going to change his mind, especially when he saw Jean shaking with silent laughter from his chair in the corner. But then something in Marco’s eyes seemed to harden and he nodded. 

“Alright. Let’s get started then,” he said. 

“I promise it’ll be worth it,” Armin said with a smile as he pulled his hair back into a messy bun to keep it out of his face.

He worked quietly, making sure to give Marco frequent breaks as he outlined each of the birds. The man had asked a few questions as they started, but he had grown more silent as time progressed, most likely just trying to deal with the pain. Armin sort of admired him a little bit. He was used to the feeling of getting a tattoo now, but he remembered what his first one had felt like, and he had gotten it on his outer arm – a much less sensitive spot. 

Jean seemed to be trying to make up for Marco’s silence, asking Armin questions here and there or commenting on how it was turning out. Despite what Armin considered a generally dickish demeanor, he was a surprisingly supportive friend; telling Marco that he was doing great and how awesome it was going to look when it was finished. It took a little longer than two hours but Marco pulled through in the end. 

“And the worst it over,” Armin proclaimed as he leaned back for the last time. Marco let out a somewhat shaky but relieved breath. 

“Thank god,” he muttered. Armin chuckled as he finished wiping it down and cleaning off the excess ink. “Do you want to take any pictures before I cover it up?” he asked. 

“I’ll get one,” Jean said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and snapping a quick picture while Armin waited.

“Wow, that really is some good work,” he commented, to Armin’s surprise. 

“Thanks,” he said, unsure why the comment caught him so off guard. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d heard it. 

He bandaged Marco up and ran through the aftercare details before ringing him up and seeing them out the door. In a strange way he was sad to see them go, mostly because for as much as Jean didn’t seem like his type, Armin sure did like looking at him. But fortunately for him, they had barely made it out the door when something in the window caught Marco’s eye and they stopped. Armin watched a brief conversation between the two and then Marco pushed the door open and walked back in. 

“Yeah, hi again. I just noticed the sign in your window. You’re looking to hire a desk worker?” Armin blinked and then glanced at Mikasa who shrugged. 

“Uh…yeah, we are, as a matter of fact,” he said almost hesitantly. Marco grinned. 

“Great! I want to apply.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is friends, the premier chapter of my newest fic! Thanks to all of you who came to read it and I hope you enjoy this one as much as my previous works!


	2. Chapter 2

“Uh….okay, do you have any experience working a register?” Armin asked. 

Marco cocked his head. 

“Well yeah, but…don’t you want me to fill out an application?” he asked. 

“Well…about that…we’re kind of a small business if you haven’t noticed; all of us here have known each other since we were kids. Our last desk girl went to high school with us, so…we’ve never really hired anyone off the streets, so we’ve never bothered making an application,” Armin admitted. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal over the last few years, but now he felt like an idiot. 

“Oh. Well okay. I can just tell you then; my parents run a deli in my hometown. I used to run the register after school and during the summers,” Marco said brightly. 

Armin considered that for a moment. That was definitely a step in the right direction if they didn’t need to spend a lot of time training him. 

“So you work well with customers and people then?” 

From across the room where he was casually looking through a large display of the shop’s work, Jean snorted.

“Are you serious? I don’t think there’s anyone in the world this guy can’t get along with,” he said.

Armin gave him a second’s glance and then looked back at Marco who was looking a little embarrassed, but in a pleased sort of way.

“Yeah…I get along with people okay,” he said. 

Somehow, Armin was more inclined to believe Jean’s assessment. Perhaps it was a little unorthodox, but Armin couldn’t help but trust Marco. Not to mention they _really_ needed someone to work the counter. “Alright, you’re hired,” he said. Marco’s eyes widened and if he hadn’t been looking at Armin already he probably would’ve done a double take. 

“Seriously?” he asked. Armin shrugged. 

“You’re good with people, we don’t have to train you at the register, and not to mention, you tipped well,” he said with a grin.

“Awesome! When can I start?” Marco asked enthusiastically. 

“Tomorrow, if it works for you? We open at ten, but get here by nine so we can show you how to use the phones and appointment system,” Armin instructed. Marco nodded. 

“You won’t regret it,” he promised. 

Somehow Armin already knew that. He watched them go and Armin would be lying if he said he didn’t crane his neck a little for one last glimpse of Jean’s stellar ass. Behind him someone – Eren, he guessed, because Mikasa was much more subtle – snorted. 

“Could you be any more obvious?” his friend asked. Armin turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. 

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. 

“Oh please, you were totally checking out that guy’s butt,” he said. Armin grinned. 

“Hey what can I say? I’m a guy who knows what he likes,” he said unabashedly. 

“Yeah, too bad he’s an asshole,” Eren reminded him. 

Armin shrugged. Personally he didn’t think his friend really had any room to talk. Eren was a good guy but…he could definitely be abrasive. 

Marco arrived bright and early the next; early enough that Armin was just trying to unlock the door and balance his coffee and shoulder bag. 

“Need some help?” Marco asked from behind him. Armin yelped and nearly spilled the hot drink down his front. 

“Jesus Marco, you scared me,” he said, trying to regain his composure. 

“Sorry,” Marco said easily. “It’s just that I rode my bike and it didn’t take me as long as I thought it would, so I’m here earlier than you needed me,” he confessed. 

Ah, that explained it. Armin had been wondering if somehow his clock had gotten off. 

“It’s fine; more time to get you accustomed to everything,” Armin said, finally managing the door. 

He turned all the lights on and set his coffee down before he began showing Marco where everything was; the keys for the register, the consent forms for customers, the appointment book. 

“I was hoping to get a new computer system soon, but it’ll have to wait a little longer; we had to replace the front window a few months back after some asshole pushed some other asshole through it,” Armin said nonchalantly. Marco’s eyes widened. 

“Really? Does that sort of thing happen often?” he asked. Armin realized with a groan how he had made their business sound. 

“No, of course not. First time I’ve had to call the cops in the two years we’ve been open,” he said. Marco nodded but still looked rather grim. 

“Honestly, it’s usually pretty quiet. Worst that happens is we get some drunks from the bars down the street,” he said. He hadn’t meant it as another jab towards Marco and Jean, but Marco’s ears turned red nonetheless. 

“How’s your tattoo feeling?” Armin asked as a way to change the subject. 

“Oh, um, it’s fine I guess. A little sore this morning,” Marco said. Armin nodded.

“Yeah, that’s normal, nothing to worry about as long as you’ve been cleaning it like I showed you. Which, when you need to go do, just let one of us know and we’ll man the counter while you’re gone,” Armin said. Marco nodded, looking almost surprised. 

“Eren and Mikasa will be in shortly and then you can meet them properly. In the meantime just sort of…hm. Well, you should probably familiarize yourself with the other things we do besides tattoos and whatnot. Guess we don’t really have much of an employee handbook either,” Armin admitted sheepishly. 

“That’s alright. Do you have anything I can take notes on?” he asked. Armin looked at him, surprised and then nodded. He pulled his sketchbook from his bag and flipped it open to a blank page. 

“So, all of us do piercings so if someone wants to get one done, just book them with whichever of us has the first opening. We don’t tattoo palms, tongues or lips. They-” 

“Wait, what? People actually get their _tongues_ tattooed?” Marco asked incredulously. Armin shrugged. 

“Some people do. We prefer not to do it though; the skin is hard to work with and takes forever to heal. Plus they don’t last very long, which is why we don’t do palms either,” he said. 

Marco frowned. 

“But I thought tattoos were permanent?”

Armin smiled.

“Not quite; places like your tongue, where there’s a lot of moisture and acids and such make them fade, while the skin on your palms is just replaced and destroyed so often that they basically just wear away.” Marco stared at him. 

“Wow, I didn’t know there was so much to tattooing,” he admitted. Armin laughed. 

“Yeah, it’s not as easy as it seems. Just because you can draw and color in the lines doesn’t mean you’ll be good,” he agreed. 

“But anyways, aside from that, we don’t tattoo anyone under sixteen, and no one under eighteen without a parent present. Um…what else…oh! If anyone asks for a discount, the answer is no. If they can’t pay for our art, they’re not getting it,” the blond said firmly. Marco nodded, rushing to get everything written down. 

“And if anyone has a question not addressed by that sheet, or the aftercare guide I gave you then just come and ask me, or Eren or Mikasa,” Armin said, trying to sound comforting. He was starting to see that Marco was maybe a bit nervous. 

“Okay. And what if you’re in with a client? Can I still-” 

“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask, even if we’re with a client,” Armin assured him. He was glad to see that Marco looked at marginally relieved by those words. 

“Anyways, that’s about it for now. I think I saw Eren and Mikasa pull in around back so they should be in in just a second.” Right on cue Eren and Mikasa walked in the front door, the bell jingling pleasantly as the door swung open. 

“Morning guys,” Armin greeted. 

“You both remember Marco? He’s going to be working the desk starting today.” 

“Oh thank god,” Eren sighed. “I was starting to get real annoyed having to play jigsaw with our appointments,” he said. Armin rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, Marco, this is Eren and Mikasa. Guys, I already told him to ask us if he needs anything but I think he’ll do okay,” he said. Mikasa smiled at the taller, freckled man. 

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine Marco,” she said. 

Marco smiled sheepishly. 

“I hope so.”   
Armin watched Marco closely over the next few days to see how he was doin. He seemed to be adjusting well; he hadn’t needed to ask them much and he had received nothing but compliments from their customers on how polite he was. All in all Armin was pretty proud of his judgement. And then on Marco’s third day, the bell above the door jingled and in walked Jean, greeting Marco and throwing a nod in his direction. At first Armin was confused, wondering what Jean was doing there, and then after a few moments it became clear that he was there on a purely social visit. Armin rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t you have a job or something?” he said. Jean turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised, but Marco was the one who answered.

“Jean’s working on his PhD, his hours are kind of weird sometimes. Er…I can ask him to leave if you want,” he said. Armin cocked his head. 

“What are you studying?” he asked instead. Jean looked at him. 

“Economics,” he said. 

“Oh.” Well that was…boring. Though…he did remember reading somewhere that a PhD in econ had its advantages. Still. 

“What about you Marco? Are you still in school?” Armin continued.

“Oh, no. Jean and I graduated together but I chose not to go to grad school,” Marco explained. 

“Ah. Not to pry but…if you have a college degree why are you working as a desk clerk?” Armin asked, not unkindly. A flush spread across Marco’s cheeks. 

“Oh, well, it’s um…I was a history major, so there’s not much in the job field right now. I’m just trying to get by,” he admitted. Armin nodded sympathetically. “I know how that goes. I was aiming to be a history major myself and realized halfway through it wouldn’t be enough. I ran myself ragged getting a business degree to go with it,” he said. Marco gave a hesitant smile. Jean raised an eyebrow. 

“You went to college?” he asked. Armin turned to look at him coolly. 

“That surprised you?” he asked. Jean shrugged. 

“Well yeah, I mean you aren’t exactly…well, let’s be honest, you don’t exactly look like the college type, let alone one who double majored,” he said. Armin’s nostrils flared. 

“Is that so? What do I look like then?” he asked coldly, deciding that hot or not, ‘asshole’ was obviously Jean’s permanent personality setting. Jean rolled his eyes. 

“Calm down killer. I just meant you look more like one of those ‘from rags to riches’ cases, you know, successful and happy without getting a traditional education or some shit, it’s not like I said you were stupid,” he said. Armin couldn’t decide how that was meant, but Jean was evidently finished addressing him. 

“Anyways, Marco, I was in class when you left and I left my keys in the apartment,” he said, turning back to Marco. 

“Oh! Here, take mine then,” Marco said, fishing in his pocket for his keyring. 

“Thanks, I’ll bring them back if I go anywhere,” Jean said and then headed out the door. Armin watched him go with crossed arms and a frown. How the hell did someone like that become friends with someone like Marco? Unless…

“So you guys live together?” he asked. Marco nodded. 

“Since college,” he said. 

“Are you…dating?” he asked. Marco blinked and then laughed. 

“What? No! No of course not! We’re just really good friends; we’ve known each other since high school,” he explained. 

He seemed sincere and not offended that Armin had asked, which was a good thing because it hadn’t necessarily been an appropriate question. Jean didn’t come back to return the keys but he came by the shop again a few days later. He was wearing a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder – he must have just come from the class Marco told Armin he was TA for. Armin imagined he would have a hell of hard time paying attention in any class Jean was teaching. But he was just taking a customer in back when Jean walked in, so he didn’t know what he had come by for until later when Eren more or less confronted him about it. 

“Look, Marco’s great here, everyone really like him, but his asshole friend keeps coming in to chat with him like it’s some sort of social club,” he said. Armin frowned.

He should’ve agreed with Eren, but instead found himself saying, “Well, I mean I guess it’s pretty harmless if he’s not getting in the way of business. Marco doesn’t ignore customers to talk to him.” Eren stared at him. 

“Seriously? You’re really gonna let that fly just because you like the dude’s ass?” he asked. But he wasn’t angry he seemed more…amused. 

“I didn’t say that!” Armin protested. Eren snorted. 

“You didn’t need to,” he said. Armin rolled his eyes. 

“Fine, I’ll tell him not to come anymore.”

And he meant to do that too, he really, _really_ did, it was just that on Saturday when he got a text from Sasha asking if they were planning on coming to the bar – as was tradition for them to do once a month – well, Armin couldn’t help suggesting they take Marco to celebrate his first week on the job, and since Jean was standing there too Armin figured it would be impolite not to ask him to. Never mind that being polite was rarely a priority for anyone who hadn’t earned it. Besides, he had no way of knowing that things would end up happening the way they did…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to apologize for not updating last week as I usually do; the holiday weekend snuck up on me and before I knew it we were driving up north and I have no internet at my cabin. But here is the next chapter, and hopefully you all enjoy it. I realize it's kind of moving a bit sow right now, but things will heat up in the next few chapters, I promise! Thanks to all of you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Armin woke to a pounding headache and someone else’s ceiling. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the events of the previous night more clearly. They had gone to the bar, and everyone had been getting along surprisingly well. Eren and Jean had even gotten up and done karaoke together, though Armin couldn’t for the life of him remember the song. And then…Jean had caught his eye and licked his lips in a way that left no room for misinterpretation. Armin had felt his mouth go dry and when Jean got up, Armin followed. They had gone into the bathroom together and then Jean had all but yanked him into a stall, locking the door behind him. 

“Tell me I’m not crazy and you’re in here because you plan on fucking me,” he had said, and his voice was so husky and full of need that Armin had been unbuckling his pants before the man had even finished speaking. And then he had teased him until Jean was moaning incoherently and nearly babbling. And then he stopped. Jean had let out a keening whine and Armin would never forget the look on Jean’s face when Armin had whispered his plans and the request that they go back to Jean’s place in his ear. And then he and Jean had come here and had barely made it into the bedroom and onto the bed – after Armin had made it clear, even going so far as to have Jean repeat it back to him, that this did not in any way shape or form mean a relationship for them.

He sat thinking on it for a few minutes. It had been unexpected, not that Armin was going to complain about it. Armin had had a spectacular time of it; Jean had been almost unfairly good in bed. 

“Morning,” Jean murmured sleepily beside him, shifting to slide his arm over Armin’s waist. Armin froze for half a second before shoving the arm off and all but jumping out of the bed. Jean sat up quickly, looking at him with concern. 

“Armin?” he asked, “What is it?” 

Armin shook his head. 

“I don’t do cuddling,” he said. “I’ll sleep with you and share a bed afterwards, but I don’t do cuddling.” Jean frowned and then – much to Armin’s surprise – nodded. 

“Okay, whatever you want. It won’t happen again.” 

Armin let that sink in for a moment and then nodded, looking around the bedroom. His eyes landed on the door to the bathroom and he motioned towards it. 

“Mind if I use your shower?” he asked. Jean shook his head. 

“Go for it. Want me to make some breakfast?” he asked. Armin frowned. 

“All we did was sleep together, Jean. We’re not dating, remember? You don’t have indulge me,” he said, his voice sounding harsher than he meant it to. Jean’s brow furrowed and he looked annoyed. 

“I’m not indulging you, and I know we’re not dating. But I’m hungry and I figured if I was going to make something, the polite thing would be to ask you – my guest – if you’d like some. It’s a little thing called manners,” he retorted. Armin crossed his arms over his chest, grateful that he had had the presence of mind to find his boxers again last night. 

“Well, then, no thank you. I’m just going to shower and head out,” he said. 

What was he even getting all bent out of shape over? Jean was right; it wasn’t like he’d done anything offensive, or anything he himself wouldn’t have done if he were in Jean’s shoes. But for some reason, all he wanted to do now was get the hell out of there. 

“On second thought, I’ll just shower at home. It doesn’t make any sense to put on dirty clothes.” Never mind that he felt gross. Jean made an impatient noise. 

“Whatever, have it your way,” he said, but his tone wasn’t argumentative. It was more…resigned? 

Armin didn’t stick around long enough to ponder that. Instead, he collected his wrinkled clothes, went into the bathroom long enough to relieve himself, rinse his mouth out with some water and try to tame his hair into a ponytail before heading out. Jean was in the kitchen, standing at the stove in his boxers and despite their strange little spat, Armin stood there for a moment admiring him. He was more muscular than Armin would’ve guessed, with a nice flat stomach and a toned ass and…Armin shook his head and cleared his throat. 

“Well, I’m heading out,” he said. His voice sounded flat and still a little bit angry and he hated that. Seriously, it had been one arm over his waist for less than five seconds. He took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for a good night,” he said, doing his best to temper his voice. 

Jean turned to glance at him over his shoulder. Armin expected him to just turn back around and ignore him – it was probably what he would’ve done – but instead, Jean moved the pan off the hot burner and turned to face him. The look in his eyes made Armin think he was going to get some sort of talking to, but instead Jean moved closer to him. 

“I get that you hate cuddling, but is a goodbye kiss out of the question?” he asked. Armin blinked at him, utterly disarmed. What in the world? 

“Um…well no, I suppose not. I just-” 

Jean had grabbed him by the hips, pulling him close and capturing his lips with his own. Jean’s tongue swiped across his lower lip and Armin eagerly parted them to give Jean access. He tasted of mint, which meant he had gone somewhere and brushed his teeth while Armin was huffily getting ready. Armin could only imagine that he did not taste nearly as good, but strangely Jean didn’t seem to mind, because he kissed Armin with just as much fervor as he had the night before. When Jean pulled away Armin was more than a little breathless, and his pants seemed a little tighter as well. Jean’s smirk made it obvious his kiss had had the desired effect. Armin swallowed and then stepped back, heading to the door. 

“Right, well, thanks again,” he said. He paused with his hand on the knob and turned back to Jean, who was already back at the stove. 

“Would you maybe want to do this again sometime?” he asked. Jean’s smirk turned into a grin – a slightly self-assured one, but a grin nonetheless. 

“I’d like that,” he agreed. 

And so it was that they began sleeping together fairly regularly. Eren had gotten used to surprisingly quickly, though he certainly did like to tease Armin. Mikasa, who had never seen to have much issue with him in the first place took it in stride as she did most things. If his, Eren, and Mikasa’s friendship were a mountain then she was surely the base, with the unflappable calm and reason she seemed to possess when her friends were determined to act like idiots. And then there was Marco. He had been…surprised and confused the first time Armin had shuffled half asleep into the kitchen searching for coffee. Jean had already rushed out the door for class that morning so it was just the two of them. 

“So…you and Jean?” he asked. 

Armin hastened to shake his head. 

“No, we’re just…” 

“Friends with benefits?” Marco supplied. 

Armin frowned. He wouldn’t exactly consider them that. Personally he felt that calling them friends at all was a bit of a stretch since Marco was – as far as Armin could tell – the only thing they had in common. He wouldn’t know for sure though, most of their conversations consisted of “harder”, “faster,” and “Oh god, don’t stop” and various other half-coherent, pleasure-induced cries. But still, it was a good outlet for both of them. Armin got all the no-strings attached sex he wanted, and Jean got to blow off pent up steam, or whatever it was he got out of their escapades. Armin still wasn’t sure on that point either. He had made it pretty clear what he wanted from Jean but…what did Jean want from him? 

“No, it’s just a…mutually beneficial situation,” he clarified. Marco actually pursed his lips. 

“Oh,” he said simply. Armin cocked his head. Was that some kind of problem? 

“Oh?” But Marco shook his head. “It’s nothing. He’ll either tell you or he won’t,” he said. 

Armin debated pushing the issue but Marco disappeared from the kitchen before he could. Jean would tell him what? Was there something Jean was hiding? Oh god, did he have an STD? Armin smacked himself for jumping to the literal worst conclusion. That was stupid, and besides, even if it were true Armin topped and they always, _always_ used a condom. But still, it left Armin wondering what the hell it could be. 

“Guess I don’t have to worry about late if I show up at the same time as you?” Marco asked, back to his usual smiling self when he returned. Armin laughed. 

“I guess not. I’ll give you a ride, if you’d like. Looks like it’s going to rain,” he offered. 

“That would be great!” 

So Marco was determined to drop the subject, but maybe he could persuade Jean to tell him…or he could just wait like a good boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers! sorry for the delay, but at least I still managed to get this up by Sunday. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry for the lack of sex but there will be plenty of it later haha. Anyways, a quick note in regards to the updates; I'll be out of town the next two weekends, so the next FOR SURE update will be August 8. I _might_ be able to get to it before then but it depends on how busy I am during the week and how reliable my internet is where I'm going. Hopefully you all find it worth the wait! Thanks so much for all your continued support! :D


	4. Chapter 4

Waiting sucked.   
Armin had never been one to just let things go, but he had no way of bringing it up, so he had no choice. Jean continued to drop by the shop and Armin was relieved to see that Eren had seemed to accept this. Armin supposed that getting up on stage with someone and making an ass of yourself with them would cement a friendship, or at least the sort of friendly rivalry they seemed to have going. It was almost as if Jean was becoming just as much a part of their business as Marco; he’d even referred a few of his friends, and Armin had to admit he was not only grateful for the extra business, but for the fact that none of them had asked for discounts either. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jean or he had expected him to take advantage but…once someone let it slip that they knew a guy, well then everyone was a friend and wanted a ‘favor’. It was actually because of these people – a tall blond guy who’s name Armin didn’t remember but who had trusted Eren to give him his first piece of ink – that Armin found himself looking at Jean from his stool behind the counter one afternoon, thinking about all that bare, blank skin and imagining what it would be like to cover it with whatever he wanted. 

“So would you ever consider getting a tattoo?” he asked as Jean lounged on the sofa, flipping through a text book. Jean looked up at him, amusement etched in his features. 

“As if. I mean, don’t get me wrong, yours look fabulous and to each his own and all that crap, but I don’t think I’d ever want anything that permanent on me,” he said. Armin raised a brow. 

“Oh? You seemed pretty sure you wanted one the night we met,” he countered. A pink hew spread across Jean’s tanned cheeks. 

“In fact, artist’s choice, that’s what you said, isn’t it? If I were the one doing it?” Armin asked, his grin widening as the color in Jean’s face rose. 

“First of all, I don’t recall us actually meeting until the next day. Secondly, that was different, I was drunk,” he protested. “I know, I remember,” Armin said with a laugh. He didn’t think he’d ever forget how scandalized Jean had looked after Armin’s teasing. 

“Do you act like that towards every drunk that wanders in here?” Armin laughed again. 

“Definitely not. But the way you were looking at me, I couldn’t resist making fun of you.” 

“The way I was looking at you?” 

“Oh come on, you know _exactly_ how you were looking at me, like I was the hottest piece of ass you’d ever seen,” Armin retorted. Now Jean laughed. 

“Well, what can I say? You kind of were.” 

Armin’s smile faltered. 

“I mean, you still are! Hot and brilliant and all that other stuff you’d probably hit me for not saying,” Jean hastened to say. 

Armin smiled again, but it was a little forced. 

“Yeah, nice catch,” he said. 

Jean must’ve noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, but he just frowned and didn’t comment. Armin gratefully went back to his sketch book. He could tell Jean was wondering what the hell had just happened, but Armin wasn’t in the mood to try and explain, though he knew he probably should. No doubt Jean was thinking it was his use of past tense that had bothered Armin, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Nor was it a simple lack of self-confidence on Armin’s part. No, It was deeper than both of those things, more complex. 

It was one thing to tease and to laugh or banter about Armin being attractive. He knew it had to be true on some level for Jean to sleep with him and look at him as he had – as he did. But…hearing it outright caused something to twist painfully inside of him. Something he thought he had mastered long ago. The silence of the room suddenly felt heavy, like he needed to say something. But he had nothing to say, nothing he could say and certainly nothing he wanted to say. 

As inconspicuously as he could he stood up and made his way out of the lobby and into his workroom. If Jean had any objection to this he didn’t say anything and Armin was glad for it. Once he was alone he took a deep breath. He felt like a coward. Seriously. He had worked out all….okay, _most_ of his issues a long time ago. What was he doing? Getting all worked up because some guy thought he was hot? This was why he usually stuck to one night stands. Things were just so much easier when he didn’t have to worry about all the trouble that came with continued encounters. For one, they never got the chance to ask him many personal questions, and for two, Armin didn’t have to worry about the off chance that he started to develop feelings for them. Which wasn’t what was happening with Jean, per say. Sure, the more time he spent with the guy the more he could see them being friends, but that was it. Armin just wasn’t going to let it go any further, and that was that. 

The more he justified it to himself the more it felt like a case of ‘me thinks the lady doth protest too much’, but deep down Armin knew. There was nothing to this other than mind blowing sex. Which was why he found it odd when Jean began inviting him to things that didn’t involve said sex, though the first time Armin thought little of it. 

“Hey, there’s this great movie coming out tonight if you wanted to go see it,” Jean said, one drizzly afternoon. 

It was fall now and the rain was a near constant thing, as were the dropping temperatures. Armin and Eren were sitting around waiting for their next appointments while Mikasa was giving a consultation to a potential newbie. 

“A movie?” Armin asked. 

“Yeah. I mean, I have an extra ticket because I figured Marco and I’d go to the midnight release but he’s going back home for his mom’s birthday,” Jean said. 

A fact that Armin was well aware of, since it had been the first time-off request Marco had made since starting here and Armin already missed his presence. He hadn’t been aware of how hard Marco was working to keep the shop running smoothly until he was gone for a day…. Armin considered for a moment. What was he going to do I he didn’t go with Jean anyways? Maybe hang out with Eren and Mikasa and play some video games, or hang out at home by himself, or if he’d been bored enough he might have even gone over to Jean’s. 

“Why not,” he agreed. Jean snorted.

“Well don’t sound so enthusiastic,” he said. Armin felt a slight heat on the back of his neck, which was not extinguished at all by the fact that he knew Eren was staring at him as well. 

“That’s not how I meant it,” he protested. Jean laughed and Armin realized he was being teased. He threw a crumpled piece of sketch paper at him in retaliation. 

Armin couldn’t say he was surprised by Jean’s movie choice; he’d learned early on that Jean had a not-nearly-as-secret as he thought love of fantasy movies. It wasn’t quite to Armin’s tastes, but he found himself enjoying it anyways, though that perhaps had more to do with Jean’s continued whispers throughout the film, complaining about things they had not done right compared to the book, or spouting random bits of behind-the-scenes trivia. The constant nearness of him for two and a half hours and the feel of his warm breath on Armin’s ear and neck had the artist ready to go back to Jean’s place and jump him. But surprisingly, Jean hesitated in the doorway. 

“Um…it’s not that I didn’t plan for you to come back here with me…it’s just…” Armin cocked his head. “Well, I’ve got class really early tomorrow and I didn’t think the movie would be quite as long as it was,” Jean said, looking embarrassed. Armin had a hard time believing that but shrugged. 

“No problem. I shouldn’t stay the night anyways. I need to go in early with Marco out of town,” he said. 

Despite Jean’s rejection, Armin didn’t really feel rejected at all. In fact, he barely spared the entire thing a second thought. Why would he have? Even the second time, when Jean invited him out for beers with some of his grad student buddies he was more concerned with being the odd man out than anything else. 

“What? No way, I’m not going to go out with a bunch of people I’ve never met just so they’ll think you’re cool!” Armin protested after Jean had asked. The brunet rolled his eyes. 

“That’s not what I’m asking for; I’m just saying that I’ve talked about you and they want to meet you is all. Come on Armin, I’ll buy you a bottle of that cherry wine you like.” Jean pleaded. Armin’s eyes narrowed. 

“I am not to be bribed, Jean Kirschtein. And if I were, it would take more than a bottle of cherry wine. It would take at least two,” he said matter-of-factly. Jean didn’t miss the playful glint in his eyes.

“Armin, you are the best, you will not regret this, I swear!” 

And he didn’t. Jean’s friends were pretty cool. One of them – Berthold – even knew Reiner, which had been part of the reason they’d all been so eager to meet him. Annie in particular spent a good amount of time eyeing Armin’s own tattoos with interest. In retrospect, Armin should have been more suspicious, especially when Jean dropped him off at home without much of an explanation why. Of course it was like Jean kicked him out of the car and sped off, but he made it clear that he just wanted to go home alone, which Armin of course respected.

All things considered, Armin might have been worried that Jean had lost all interest if not for the continued texts back and forth that _did_ result in sex. Armin would’ve liked to say that he saw it coming, because in retrospect, how could he not have? But he was just as oblivious a few weeks later when Jean asked him to come over for the night and keep him company since Marco was out on a date and wouldn’t be home till the next day most likely. The phrasing should have set off warning bells, but instead Armin found himself agreeing almost without hesitation.

They ordered pizza and played some video games then put on a movie and lounged on the couch together. However, when Armin slid his hand toward Jean and gently stroked it along his thigh, Jean stilled beside him. 

“I’d uh…rather not, tonight. If that’s okay with you?” he asked. 

He sounded guilty about something, but Armin removed his hand as requested, feeling at least a little justified in his confusion. The tension crept into the room slowly, filling up the empty spaces between and around them. Armin was sure he wasn’t imagining it either. Even from the corner of his eye could he see that Jean was tense. No, it was more than that, he was downright rigid. 

“Jean?” Armin finally asked. It was like his voice broke some spell. Jean jumped up off the sofa and turned to him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry Armin, I can’t do this,” he said in a rush. For a moment, that awful twisting feeling tried to claw its way up Armin’s gut. 

“Can’t do…?” he asked in a surprisingly nonchalant tone. 

“I know I told you that I was cool with just sleeping together and all that but…I’m an idiot okay, because I went and got attached to you. I couldn’t help it. I mean, you’re a great fuck, but how can you not want more than that? The last few weeks we’ve basically been going on dates already you seemed like you were having fun, so you can’t tell me you hate the idea that much. And I know it’s ridiculous but I hate the thought that you could just go and pick some other guy up because I really like you Armin. I don’t know if you have…I don’t know, commitment issues or what, but I can deal with it! So I know it’s stupid and juvenile, but please go out with me. I really think I could make you happy,” Jean’s voice had started in a rush, but he slowed his last words and looked up from his feet to meet Armin’s eyes. 

As he looked up and saw the openness of Jean’s gaze and the hope in his honey eyes, Armin wished he’d been kept waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, as promised here is chapter 4. Thank you all for sticking it out through the long break, but I'm pretty sure I don't have any other obligations that will interfere with me posting on a regular basis, which means I'll be back to posting every Sunday again. Once again, thank you all for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

He stared blankly at Jean for a few seconds, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Of course, he knew logically what was happening, but he didn’t understand _why_ it was happening. He had made it abundantly clear from the beginning that he didn’t want a boyfriend and now what? Jean thought he had commitment issues? Armin didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. But Jean seemed to be slowly coming down off his adrenaline rush or whatever had sparked that outburst and his face was changing from open and hopeful to horrified, like he couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud either. Armin didn’t know where to start. The intelligent part of himself that was apparently not a glutton for punishment told him to just break it off. Clearly their relationship had outlived its usefulness to Armin. Instead he found himself raising his eyebrow. 

“Commitment issues? Really Jean? Just because I don’t want to date someone doesn’t mean I have commitment issues,” he countered. Never mind that in some ways it wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“Well then what is it?” Jean asked, floundering. 

“It’s really none of your business, honestly. Look, I told you what I wanted. If you weren’t down with that you shouldn’t have taken me back to your place,” Armin pointed out. Jean looked momentarily ashamed. 

“I know that. And I _was_ down for that…I’m sorry. I guess I couldn’t help myself. I just thought….I don’t know, I thought maybe if I convinced you I wasn’t such a jackass and we could have fun outside of the bedroom then I could be boyfriend material,” Jean said. 

Armin could’ve laughed but he managed to rein it in. He obviously hadn’t been clear enough if Jean thought it was something about _him_ in particular that had caused Armin to make dating off limits. 

“Let me make this really, really clear Jean, it’s nothing about you. I am just not interested in dating right now. Anyone. Including you, okay?” Armin said, barely restraining himself from speaking slowly as if that would help Jean understand better. Jean opened his mouth – probably to argue – but seemed to think better of it. After a moment, he nodded. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

He was quiet after that and the silence between them was as awkward as anything Armin had ever experienced, especially with Jean looming over him while Armin still sat on the couch. Finally Jean cleared his throat a little and Armin understood. He was being asked to leave. Ah well, easy come, easy go. He vaguely wondered if Jean would stop coming to the shop now and hoped it wouldn’t make things awkward between him and Marco. 

He gathered his things and let himself out. Had Armin’s experiences been different he might have been upset, but he had always looked at this thing between them for what it was; convenient. And now it wasn’t, so it was over. The text came as he was unlocking the door to his apartment. 

_Sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to kick you out like that._

Armin rolled his eyes. It was a bit late for that, wasn’t it? But he texted back nonetheless.

_Don’t worry about it_

For some reason he was worried about that sounding too standoffish, so he added _It’s all good_ before hitting send. The delay between his outgoing message and Jean’s next was long enough to allow Armin to get inside, change out of his clothes and into pajamas and heat up some leftover pizza. The message’s contents surprised him, to say the least.

_Can we still get together sometimes? Promise my ‘issue’ won’t come up again._

Wow, and Armin had thought _he_ was a glutton for punishment. Still, Jean was a grown man and could make his own decisions. Armin wasn’t his therapist or his lover so it certainly wasn’t his job to look into Jean’s motives. They had good sex together, that was all that mattered for their continued… partnership to work. If Jean wanted to keep hooking up while he searched for Mr. Right then that was his choice. Armin certainly wasn’t going to say no. And okay, maybe that made him seem like a selfish prick but Armin had learned the hard way that sometimes you just needed to do what was best for you and not worry about the other people involved. Besides it wasn’t like anyone could get hurt, right? 

A few days later – Jean hadn’t been around the shop in a while, but according to Marco that’s because finals week was coming up – Jean texted him again.

_Your place or mine?_

Armin laughed to himself. Talk about short, sweet, and to the point. 

_My place. 10pm work?_

Armin wished it could be sooner – it had been almost a week since he and Jean had last been together – but he had a business to run and it wouldn’t look very good if the owner ducked out early for a booty call. 

_10 is fine. See you then_

Armin slipped his phone in his pocket and forced himself not to begin counting down the hours. When Jean knocked at his door at 10:07, Armin barely had it open before Jean was kissing him; hard and rough and desperate. 

“Tough week, huh?” Armin asked when he pulled away. 

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Jean replied. Armin smirked. 

“Well, let’s go see if we can make you forget about all that then,” Armin suggested, and the noise Jean made in the back of his throat was beyond sexy, sort of like a whimper or a whine. 

Armin felt himself growing hard in his lounge pants which did nothing to hide it. Jean had kicked the door closed behind him in the same moment he had pulled Armin in for the kiss and now Armin pushed him back against it. He had to stand on his toes but that didn’t diminish the effect it had on Jean as Armin kissed him fervently. Armin preferred an equal give-and-take approach in the bedroom, but that didn’t stop him from taking control in the heat of the moment, not when it was so clear that Jean was there because he needed to just let go. When Armin pulled back Jean remained leaning against the door, panting through his swollen lips and staring at Armin with eyes that were almost black, save for the thin ring of golden-brown around his pupils.

“Think you can make it to the bedroom for me? Or would you rather I just took you on the couch?” Armin purred, stroking his hand down Jean’s chest to rub it over the bulge in the front of his pants. Jean made that whimpering noise again and looked torn. 

“Bedroom, now,” he finally decided. Armin grinned and caught him by the wrist. 

“Come on then,” he murmured, leading Jean through the living room to his bedroom. Jean was already tugging off his shirt the moment he passed the doorframe and Armin couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased. 

Jean didn’t say anything, just continued to undress, and Armin had to admit that watching him stretch out on his bed, lying on his back with his hands behind his head and practically presenting himself, was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Armin said, but he didn’t move right away. 

He took a long moment to look at Jean, to trail his eyes down the long, slenderness of his body – he was built like a runner – the and golden tan of his bare skin – the thought of putting his art on it still made Armin’s mouth water – until they rested on his cock, just as beautiful as the rest of him and fully hard, curving up towards his belly. 

“You’re not going to eat me, are you?” Jean asked, his voice a little strained despite the relative ease in his posture. Armin looked up at him wickedly. 

“Well, now that you mention it,” he said and he crawled onto the bed – aware of the fact that he was still fully clothed – and settled himself between Jean’s thighs. Armin began with feather light kisses to the insides of Jean’s thighs, enjoying the shuddering breaths they drew from the man beneath him. 

“Armin…please…I’m not really in the mood for teasing,” Jean murmured, bucking his hips up. Armin frowned. Jean usually enjoyed foreplay. 

As far as Armin could tell he like being teased until he was near the brink and then brought back down, only to be pushed over. He said nothing though, just gave a curt nod and reached for the lube in the night stand. He drizzled it onto his fingers, coating them thoroughly before pressing the tip of his middle finger to the tight ring of muscle at Jean’s entrance. He hesitated for just a brief second. This was new to him. He had never prepped Jean without a little teasing, without doing something else to distract him from whatever discomfort might come from beings stretched out, as Armin was always so careful to do. Today he wasn’t even sure if a kiss was allowed. 

He didn’t want it to, but something about the entire situation felt….clinical, almost. The warmth and heat that had been there in that first kiss when Jean arrived seemed to have faded, almost as if Jean were holding back somehow. Armin wanted to ask, but he knew it wasn’t his place. He had been going through the motions almost on autopilot at this point and it wasn’t until Jean squirmed beneath him and made a pleading sort of noise that Armin realized the other was more than ready and that Armin himself had been staring at him absent-mindedly. Armin reached again for the drawer to grab a condom, glad he could use the motion to hide his embarrassment. 

The only noise in the room was the sound of Jean’s ragged breathing and the tear of foil as Armin ripped open the packaging before sliding the condom on. Armin couldn’t sort out everything that made him feel. Usually there was banter, there were smiles, there was touching. This was just….all wrong. Not as if either of them were being forced or anything like that, and Armin would be lying if he said he wasn’t still enjoying the physicality of it. He just knew something was off. He gave Jean’s thigh a gentle smack and the brunet looked up at him, surprised.

“Roll over,” Armin said. 

Jean seemed to hesitate for a moment and then did as he was told, rolling off his back and pushing himself up on his knees, dropping his shoulders to the bed. It wasn’t Armin’s favorite position. He wasn’t the type to fall in love but that didn’t mean he didn’t like seeing the pleasure he gave painted across a lover’s face when they came. But tonight was different. He nudged Jean’s knees apart with his own and then positioned himself, pressing against Jean’s hole until the muscles loosened enough to accept him. He pushed in slowly, waiting for Jean to adjust and, unable to stop himself, stroked a soothing hand down Jean’s spine once he was fully inside. 

“I’m okay,” Jean rasped beneath him and Armin knew he was safe to continue. 

He smoothed his hands down Jean’s back, stopping them at his hips to hold him in place. Jean would take what he would give, nothing more, and nothing less. Armin began to move, slowly at first in short, shallow little thrusts that left Jean trying to push back against him, to get more movement, more friction. But Armin held him still. Only once Jean started literally begging for more did Armin relent. He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained and then in one quick motion pushed back inside. The noise Jean made was worth it; a moan somewhere between a gasp and a sob that had Armin eager to do it again. He wanted to make Jean lose it, and damn whatever had stopped him from doing so in the first place. 

Over and over, he thrust into that tight heat until he could feel Jean trembling and knew he was on the verge. Armin wasn’t far behind. He saw Jean reach down as if to bring himself to his finish and Armin smacked his hand away, irrationally annoyed by the gesture. Armin could tell that Jean was going to protest but Armin shifted his position on his next thrust and Jean let out another of those moans that Armin was coming to enjoy so much as the blond pegged his gland. Armin kept at it, hitting that bundle of nerves with almost every thrust and when Jean came, unaided by the touch of his own hand, Armin would’ve given just about anything to see his face. But he couldn’t. So he settled for closing his eyes and imagining it instead as he listened to the beautiful noises the other man made when he hit his peak and Armin came just a few seconds after. He had the sudden insane urge to lean forward and drape himself over Jean like a human blanket but the impulse disappeared as quickly as it had arisen. 

“Are you alright?” he asked instead. It hadn’t been rough sex per say, but it had been intense, and while Armin knew something had changed, he wasn’t going to at least make sure Jean was okay. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Jean murmured, sounding as if he were finally catching his breath again for the first time since he had arrived that evening.

Armin nodded and then gently slipped out of him, unable to help feeling a little guilt – as always – at the little hiss of displeasure he heard in response. He expected Jean to stay after that; he would’ve, if only because he was too exhausted to leave. But when he returned from tying off and disposing of the condom Jean was collecting his clothing and getting dressed. 

“You’re leaving?” Armin asked, frowning. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a final to proctor tomorrow and stuff to do. But thanks for letting me come,” he said. 

Armin expected a grin and a wink, because there was no way Jean hadn’t meant that as a double entendre. But there was no reaction and for a moment Armin was left speechless. He was just going to leave? Armin was a half-second from asking him to stay when he realized how ridiculous that would sound. What had gotten into him? He watched wordlessly as Jean finished dressing and then followed him out to the living room and to the door. 

“See you later then,” Jean said. He leaned forward for a fraction of second as if he intended to kiss Armin good-bye and then thought better of it. 

“Thanks again,” he said, and then he was gone, leaving Armin staring at his closed door, feeling inexplicably miserable. 

“Yeah, see you later,” he muttered to the empty room. 

The empty room, of course, did not reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not friends! I did not forget about today's update, I just had a prior engagement to attend to this afternoon, getting a new tattoo of my own as it were. Anyhow things are going to start progressing fairly quickly after this and I want to say the fic will be somewhere around 10 chapters. Hopefully you all enjoy it and stick with me for the rest of the fic!


	6. Chapter 6

Armin wished he could do it over, do something differently. He wasn’t an idiot; he could figure out that Jean’s change in attitude obviously had something – or everything – to do with his assurances that he and Jean would never be more than two people who occasionally had sex together. Perhaps he had been too firm in telling him so. He had never meant to imply that they couldn’t be friends _and_ sleep together, but that seemed to be how Jean was taking it. Armin had wanted to talk about it with the other man but how could he? What should he say? ‘Yes Jean, I like you, but only enough to want to be friends and have sex together. But love’s got nothing to do with it and anything more is off limits.’ Because that didn’t make Armin sound like a hypocritical bastard at all. 

So he didn’t say anything. And he hated it. 

He knew better than to continue doing things he wasn’t comfortable with. But still. They continued to sleep together on occasion, no longer spending the nights together or going out together as friends. Jean still came to the shop but he spent most of his time communicating with Marco, and Armin couldn’t help but feel that Marco knew _exactly_ what was going on. Armin tried to convince himself to be cross about it, or at least neutral. If anyone was being used here, it was him. Jean should just move on and get a life or something. 

The only problem was, he wasn’t sure what he would do if Jean did that. It wasn’t like he was in love with Jean – definitely not – but there was something…he didn’t know what it was, but the thought of never seeing Jean in the shop, or worse, seeing him with someone else, tore him up almost as much as it had the first night Jean had left. Pathetic though it may have been, Armin found himself trying to engage Jean in conversation more and more often. Sometimes it even worked and he saw glimpses of their previous relationship in those moments, the one where Jean was an ass but the kind that was endearing, where Armin could tease him about whatever and Jean would just grin and have some witty comeback. But they were short lived. Which was why when Jean approached him one day and sat down on the couch next to him, Armin’s heart sped up a little in his chest. 

“Armin….can I ask you something?” Jean asked. Marco was helping a customer and Armin couldn’t help but feel like Jean had been waiting for that before he asked.

“Sure, what’s up?” 

“Things have been…weird between us lately. And I was just…Well, I was just wondering why you wouldn’t go out with me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you again. I just…I mean…you said you didn’t want a relationship, and I get that except…I’m the only one you’re sleeping with and you said yourself that you didn’t mind those ‘almost dates’ we went on a while back. So…there’s more than that, isn’t there? You hate being held, you won’t even let me ride you when we’re fucking and-” 

“Jean, stop, please,” Armin said quietly, his voice tight. 

Jean had been looking down at his hands as he spoke, but now he looked up at Armin with surprise and concern. He also looked at him expectantly, like he thought Armin was going to explain it all. For a moment, Armin thought he was too. And then he gave a shake of his head, more of a jerk to the left, really and took a deep breath. 

“It’s none of your business. I told you my boundaries and you said you would respect them. If you can’t or won’t then this… _thing_ between us needs to end. I won’t sleep with someone who can’t respect my privacy,” he said, feeling as though he was staring Jean down. 

Color rose to Jean’s face.

“No! No…I’m…sorry. You’re right. I just….got a little ahead of myself I guess,” he said quickly.

“Ahead of yourself?” Armin retorted. 

“No! No…not ahead of myself. There’s not going to be a relationship, I know. It’s just an expression. I meant I got…it doesn’t matter, I won’t bring it up again,” Jean finally mumbled. 

“Good. Please don’t.” And with that Armin snapped his sketchbook closed and went over to talk to Marco and the customer who had finally decided what they wanted. 

Oh god, now he was really miserable. That hadn’t gone at all how he had wanted to. He had squandered a perfect opportunity to fix things with Jean, if not – No. He wouldn’t allow himself to go down that path. It wasn’t as if he felt he wasn’t within his rights to be angry – Jean had pushed too far after all – but he could’ve handled it better. He shouldn’t have suggested they end things when really, that was probably the last thing he wanted. Wasn’t it? Was it? He was just glad that the customer he was working on was too busy trying to get through the pain to want to talk much, because Armin doubted he’d be able to have a very friendly conversation at the moment.

When he finally finished, Jean was gone, not that he’d expected anything different. He saw the customer out and then, gratefully, flipped the open sign off. When he turned, Marco was right in front of him. 

“Jesus! How does someone so tall move that quietly?” he snapped, clutching his heart. Marco’s arms were folded over his chest and he looked more annoyed than Armin had ever seen. It looked wrong on a face that was so given to cheerful smiles. 

“What are you doing?” Marco asked. 

Armin cocked a brow. 

“Closing up for the night?” Armin replied, genuinely confused. 

“Not that. With Jean!” 

Armin stared at him. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I really hope you’re not trying to play dumb right now Armin, because it’s really unfair of you if you are,” Marco barked, and Armin gaped at him, never having heard such angry words come from his mouth. 

“Apparently I am, or maybe I’m just that stupid,” Armin replied, mirroring Marco’s posture and going on the defensive. All at once Marco’s anger seemed to fade into a bone-deep weariness and he scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“Look Armin, I know you like no-strings attached stuff. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I might not understand it, but I can respect it…” 

“But?” 

“But Jean’s not like that. He falls, and when he does, he falls hard. He’d do anything to make the person he’s fallen for happy, even if it makes him miserable,” Marco finished. 

Armin bristled, hating the truth in Marco’s words, because it was so clear what Jean was doing and now that Armin stopped to pull his head out of his ass, it had been for some time. 

“Look, Jean’s a grown man Marco, he can make his own choices,” Armin said. 

“Yes, I’m not saying he can’t. I’m saying I’ve known him a long time and when it comes to people he cares about he tends to make stupid ones. He won’t give up Armin. He’ll stay on this leash you’ve got him on and look at any inch you’re willing to give him as a gift. You don’t live with him, see him every day, you haven’t seen how miserable he is,” Marco said.

“I don’t have him on a leash! Jean is free to do whatever and whoever he wants. I never said otherwise!” Armin protested. “Besides, he seems fine enough around you.” Marco rolled his eyes. 

“Jean is almost as good at hiding his problems as you are, when he wants to be,” he said. Armin did his best not to read into that. 

“What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying he comes home from a night with you and doesn’t know what to do with himself. Half of him is on cloud nine because he’s still able to be close to you and that you’re comfortable with it, and the other half is miserable because he knows he’ll never get any closer. I hear him up in the middle of the night like he can’t sleep and other days I can’t get him out of bed to save my life,” Marco said, exasperated. 

Armin’s frown deepened. He had caused that and hadn’t even realized it. He felt like an ass. 

“I’m not saying he’ll never get over it, but it’s going to be that much harder if you keep pulling him in like you’re doing. I don’t think I’m wrong if I say you care about him, but you need to make up your mind Armin. Either you care about him enough to stay with him or you need to cut him loose. I’m not going to judge you either way. I just want my friend to be happy again.” 

Maybe Marco was right, but that didn’t mean Armin had to like it. 

“So…what? I either have to what, marry him or dump him?” he asked.

The question was unkind and Armin regretted it the moment it left his lips, especially when he saw the look that flashed across Marco’s face. He looked hurt, angry, betrayed. Armin sighed and dropped his arms. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I _do_ like him. I just…can’t be with him,” he said, tension bleeding from him as his shoulders sagged. 

“Then you need to tell him so,” Marco said firmly. 

“I know…I will. Soon,” Armin promised, feeling, stupidly enough, like a teenager who had been promising to clean their room for a few weeks but still hadn’t gotten to it. Marco breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Good. I’m…glad.” There was a long, awkward pause between them and then Marco shifted uncomfortably. 

“So um…now that I’m finished being angry with you…you’re not going to fire me, are you?” he asked. Armin couldn’t help it; he laughed, and it actually felt good. Perhaps the confrontation between them had been as much for his sake as Jean’s

“Of course not. I don’t think we know how to function without you around anymore,” he said. Marco looked, if possible, more relieved. 

“Okay. Then….I guess I should get going. See you tomorrow Armin,” he said and turned to head out the back door. 

Armin watched from the front window as he came out of the alley and began his bike ride home. He sighed and wrapped his arms around himself, despite the warmth of the room. Marco was right. He’d have to deal with Jean sooner or later, and from what Marco said, sooner would be better. Even if Armin found himself dreading it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So once again, sorry for the slightly late update. I'm not sure if it's a trend that will continue, but we'll see. And here we have protective-friend-mode Marco, coming to put his foot down and save the day! Fortunately I've already got next chapter written so you only have to wait a week haha! Thanks as always for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I know I don't usually say much at the beginning of chapters, but I wanted to point out that a potentially uncomfortable topic comes up in this chapter in regards to the BDSM scene. It is not rape, non-con or anything graphic, but it might bother some people. If you'd rather miss it, stop reading at: "Where to begin?" and continue at "To his surprise, Jean didn’t say anything"... Vague, I know but I had to pick spots that wouldn't give anything away. I will also include a brief summary in the end notes for those of you who chose to skip it!

Armin wanted to put it off as long as possible. He knew what he had to do, but it didn’t mean he wanted to do it. But after three days of Marco’s questioning glances, Armin knew he could delay it no longer. Marco was right, he wasn’t being fair. But boy this was going to suck. He texted Jean on Thursday and spent the rest of the afternoon preparing himself. He was going to miss Jean though…miss the witty banter, miss the sex, miss _Jean_. When the hell had that happened? Armin couldn’t remember the last time he had missed someone he’d slept with. Maybe that was because he’d never allowed himself a chance to. Or maybe it was just because none of those people were Jean. It didn’t matter though. Armin had to let him go and that was that. When Armin opened the door Jean smiled at him. 

“Hey,” he said easily.

“Hey,” Armin said. He tried to sound natural, but he knew from the change in Jean’s demeanor that it hadn’t worked. 

“Is everything alright?” Jean asked, growing serious. Armin plastered a smile on his face. 

“Yeah, everything is fine. I’m just…not in the mood for sex tonight,” he said. Jean quirked an eyebrow. 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. We uh…we need to talk,” he said, rubbing at his shoulder. Jean forced a laugh. 

“You know, if we were dating I’d be worried about a break-up speech,” he said. Armin knew he was trying to lighten the mood but the look in his eyes showed that he knew what was coming. He knew what Armin was about to do. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Armin asked, feeling stupid that they were both dancing around each other this way. 

“No. I think we should just get to whatever it is you want to talk about,” Jean said, politely but firmly. No doubt he was wondering why Armin had called him here. Armin had wondered that himself at first. He could just do it via text. It wasn’t like he’d never done that before. But that would be wrong. He owed Jean more than that. 

“Alright. Well, if you want to sit down?” he said, motioning to the couch. He thought Jean would refuse and demand that Armin just tell him, but after a few seconds the man nodded and sat down on the couch. Armin took a seat beside him. Not close enough that they were touching but…close enough. Silence reigned, and then Armin took a deep breath. 

“Jean…we…this has to stop between us,” he said. To his surprise – or was it disappointment? – Jean didn’t protest, so he forced himself to continue. 

“It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that…” A pause. A sigh. Where to begin?

“My first relationship wasn’t…good,” he finally said. 

“He was abusive?” Jean asked softly after another beat or two of silence. Armin hesitated. 

“Not…not intentionally. I was…young, and unsure of myself. I didn’t…I didn’t feel like I was worth much. So when I met him and he seemed interested well…I jumped at that. I just wanted someone to care about me, you know? He was into the BDSM scene though.” 

“And you weren’t?” Jean supplied. 

Armin couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I didn’t know what I was into then. But he was so charming and so sure of himself, and he told me I could always tell him if I was uncomfortable. I figured if I ever _hated_ it, I’d tell him, but not unless I had to, because I knew…if I said something, I knew it would be over, and outside of the bedroom or after our sessions things were so good. He was so thoughtful and gentle and I was so scared of losing that. So I just went along with it. For…well, for a lot longer than I should’ve. In the end I still didn’t have the courage to tell him. He had brought home a…well, something new for us to try,” he explained. 

“And did you?” Jean asked, sounding as if he were afraid of the answer. Armin blinked and then laughed and the sound was only a little bit bitter. 

“I did. And everything went south very quickly after that,” Armin said and then stopped to draw another deep, somewhat shaky breath. “I…haven’t told anyone what happened, not even Eren or Mikasa. And before you tell me that I don’t need to tell you, I do. You need to understand why I can’t – you just need to understand.” 

Jean only nodded and reached, putting his hand on Armin’s knee. The warmth of his skin was comforting and Armin focused on that as he continued. 

“He brought home a uh, a vacuum bed. And yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s like being put in a freezer bag and having all the air sucked out of it. There was a tube so I could breathe, but other than that…I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk. It was just this heavy blackness pressing down all around me and totally out of my control. I was terrified, and I panicked. Luckily for me Erwin noticed that something was wrong and he let me out as quickly as he could but…I’ll never forget how that felt. Ever. I was so shaken when I got out that I ended up puking. I think he wanted to hug me, but I wouldn’t let him near. I just…cried. And after a long time he snapped me out of it and we talked. I told him everything and he was….god I’d never seen anyone so hurt and angry before,” he said softly. 

“He didn’t hit you, did he?” Jean asked. Armin laughed again, that same humorless laugh from before. 

“Of course not! Haven’t you been listening? He never wanted to hurt me. The only reason I _got_ hurt was because I couldn’t be honest,” Armin said. 

“Bullshit! He was how much older than you? And experienced! He should’ve known better, Armin!” Jean protested. Armin sighed. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He ended it, and rightfully so, end of story.”

To his surprise, Jean didn’t say anything and the more seconds that ticked by the more nervous Armin got. 

“So…is that why you won’t date anyone then? You’re afraid of being thrown away?” 

He had been expecting a reprimand or something, another question about his brief, misguided foray into the world of BDSM, not that, and not in that soft, gentle voice. It figured that out of the whole story, _that_ was the part that Jean would latch onto. Armin wished he could say no, that that wasn’t the reason at all. It had been almost four years by now. But honestly…. 

“Well, that’s part of it.” 

“And what’s the other?” 

“Most guys like to be able to put their arms around their partners.” Jean made a strange motion then, as if his whole body tensed up and he jerked forward a little bit and then stopped. 

“Jean?” Slowly he relaxed.

“I’m sorry,“ he said, but Armin could tell he was apologizing for the gesture rather than Armin’s sordid past. 

“What was that?” 

“I’m trying very hard not to hug you. Please tell me how I can comfort you.” 

“Comfort me? Jean I’m fine, I really don’t-” 

“For my sake then, please Armin!” Jean demanded. 

“A-alright um…could you run your fingers along my arm? The way you did before? When you thought I was still asleep sometimes?” Armin asked quietly, putting an arm palm up on Jean’s thigh. 

He closed his eyes, reveling in the soft touches along his arm, not realizing until that moment how much he’d missed them, missed the blessed quiet after a night of physical pleasure and the careful touches of someone who cared about him. For a few seconds he couldn’t remember why he was trying to give it all up.

“Really, I’m okay you know. It’s not like I’m damaged goods or anything,” he said after a few moments. 

Jean’s hand froze and his head snapped up. He looked…well…not too different from how Erwin had looked that day. 

“You think that’s why I wanted to know? Because I wanted to make sure you weren’t too damaged to bother with? I’m not stupid Armin, I knew you were hurt! I wanted to know why, how, because I care about you and because I wanted to understand and I wanted to know what I needed to avoid so that _I_ would never hurt you like that. And now I know I can’t, because I could never, ever throw you away, damaged or not,” he said. 

He had started out loud, angry almost, but his voice softened and he reached out, cupping Armin’s cheek with his hand. Armin closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stinging sensation behind his eyelids. 

“You don’t know that,” he whispered. 

“Yes I do.” Jean’s voice was so steady, so sure. 

“I…want to believe you, but you can’t make promises like that Jean. The world is too unpredictable. We never know what’s going to happen. Just because you feel this way now doesn’t mean you always will,” Armin said. 

“You’re right, and maybe somewhere down the line one or both of us will decide it’s better to move on. But I’m not the kind of guy that gives up without a fight. Whatever might happen between us, you matter to me. That won’t change overnight.” He paused and moved his fingers to Armin’s chin, lifting his face to meet his eyes. “Even if there’s something you don’t want to do in the bedroom,” he said, the smallest of smiles complimenting that playful light in his eyes. 

Did the idea of it not terrify him so much Armin might have launched himself forward and allowed Jean to embrace him. But he couldn’t. And it wasn’t just the fear of being surrounded by something, by someone. It was the fear that he was standing on a ledge – the likes of which he had steadfastly avoided for years – and that he was tempted to take the plunge. He looked up and met Jean’s eyes, warm and open and beautiful and so full of _want_. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jean’s. He jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who missed it for whatever reason, Armin's first relationship involved BDSM and his need for acceptance and wanting to be desired resulted in his inability to let his dom know he was uncomfortable and thus his participation in something that left him traumatized, so he doesn't like hugging, cuddling, being on the bottom, etc.
> 
> Also, I hope I made it clear enough that Erwin is not meant to be the 'bad guy', but was as much a victim as Armin was - it's important to be honest with your partners, friends! (I also occasionally pair him with Armin because I do think they sort of fit in a way, if I had to ship pair Armin with anyone else)
> 
>  
> 
> And finally, sorry again for the late update! Like I said, I'll probably be more likely to update in the evenings now that school is about to start. Thanks as always for sticking with me!


	8. Chapter 8

Armin felt Jean respond immediately, moving his mouth against Armin’s in that perfect way he had as his eyes fluttered closed. It wasn’t rushed or frantic, but slow, languid, and sweet. Armin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed this way. Had he ever been kissed this way? He couldn’t remember. Jean’s tongue had slipped into his mouth now and things were going a bit fuzzy. Had Jean pulled him onto his lap or had he moved there himself? Did it matter? Their pauses for air were peppered with smaller, closed lipped kisses on necks, chins, cheeks. Jean’s hands were on his hips; not once had they strayed around his waist, or up his back, despite the fact that on of Armin’s hands was cupped possessively around the back of his neck and the other’s fingers had been curled tightly around Jean’s sandy locks. 

There had always been testing before, pushing to see where Armin’s boundaries were, what he could get away with. Now that Jean knew the truth, there was none of that now. There was just pleasure and joy in what Armin was willing to give him, and an understanding of why those limits existed. Armin rested his head on Jean’s shoulder, reveling in it for a moment. 

Things weren’t magically fixed, he knew that. It would take time, and work from both of them but…Jean knew that, and was still here. He certainly wasn’t a saint, but perhaps he was some sort of blessing nonetheless. Now there was a thought, that – Armin’s head snapped up as Jean shifted, rolling his hips and pressing the growing bulge in his pants against Armin’s ass. 

“Can I help you?” Armin asked, laughing. Jean grinned. 

“Why yes, I think you can, as a matter of fact. Though you might be able to do a better job of it from the bedroom,” he replied, eyes sparking with mirth. 

Armin hummed, a pleased sound, and stepped back off of the couch and Jean’s lap. 

“That I might,” he said, reaching out to grab Jean’s hand and pull him up off the sofa and towards the bedroom. 

Jean followed him eagerly but when they reached the bedroom, he pushed Armin down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. For a moment Armin was terrified that Jean was going to climb on top of him and sit on his lap. 

“Shhh, just relax,” Jean said, seeing the way he tensed.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Armin’s head and Armin’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like someone had just reached into his chest and given his heart a squeeze. It was frightening, and exhilarating, the tenderness Jean was now showing him, the way he was looking at him. Had Jean been keeping all this to himself? Trying to stamp out the adoration and yearning that Armin could see written all over his face? Jean was kneeling now, looking up at him from between his knees. Armin’s heart was thundering in his chest. Why was he so nervous? It was just Jean. It wasn’t like they’d never done this before, either. Jean was undoing his pants but Armin stopped him, carding his fingers through Jean’s sandy hair. 

“Wait,” he said.

Jean looked up at him and Armin pulled him up, cupping his face in his hands. There was so much crashing around in his head right now. 

“Armin,” Jean breathed and Armin realized that he had been staring at Jean for the last few seconds. Armin licked his lips.

“I want you inside of me,” he whispered breathlessly. Jean’s eyes widened and he jerked back. 

“What? But what about-” 

“I need to be on top, I know, but…There’s no rule saying you can’t top from the bottom,” Armin said, smiling and stroking his thumb along Jean’s cheekbone. 

“Are you sure?” Jean replied. 

Armin started to laugh but it caught in his throat. Jean tilted his head. 

“What is it?”

Armin gave a sardonic smile. 

“I was going to ask if you’ve ever known me to do something I wasn’t sure of,” he replied. 

The look on Jean’s face showed that the irony wasn’t lost on him. 

“That’s it, get up,” Jean demanded. “I am on cloud nine right now and I am not going to let things get all maudlin,” he said in response to Armin’s questioning look. “We’re both wearing far too many clothes.” 

He pulled at Armin’s shirt, tugging it over his head and exposing his tattooed skin. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful these are?” Jean asked, taking a moment to trace a finger along the blade of the sword on his right pectoral. 

“I like this one in particular,” he said with a grin, moving his fingers were moving along the curling edges of the flare behind the sword. Armin cleared his throat and looked almost embarrassed. 

“Really? Um, you know what it is, right?” Jean’s smile grew broader. 

“Inquisition, right?” he asked. Armin ducked his head and nodded. 

“You’re a big old nerd under all that that tatted up tough-guy façade, aren’t you?” Jean teased. 

Armin grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him roughly. 

“And you talk too much,” he murmured when he pulled away. 

Jean gave a pleased hum as Armin began to strip Jean out of his clothing. Soon they were both naked and Armin made to push Jean onto the bed but Jean shook his head. 

“No, you lay down first, on your stomach,” he said. Armin hesitated. 

“Jean I thought we-” 

“I know, just trust me,” Jean said. 

Armin looked at him for a moment and nodded, moving to lay face down on the bed. He was nervous, but he trusted Jean. When Jean got on the bed beside him he nudged Armin into a new position so that Armin’s ass was in the air, present for Jean. Armin swallowed hard. 

“Jean,” he murmured, clenching a fist into the sheets.

“Trust me,” Jean reminded him, smoothing his hands down his back, over his cheeks, parting them with his thumbs. 

Armin was trembling now and he couldn’t figure out if it was with nerves or anticipation. And then he felt something hot and moist press against him, moving from his balls up to the small of his back. A cry tore from his throat. Christ, was that Jean’s _tongue_? It was back again, stroking his crease, leaving his skin wet and his thoughts in shambles. Jean pressed the flat of his tongue to Armin’s hole and the blond gasped, gripping the sheets tighter and pressing back. 

“ _God_ , Jean I….ah, fuck,” he panted. 

He could feel his muscles flexing against Jean’s tongue, unsure if it wanted more, inside, or less, and away. But then Jean swirled his tongue around before rolling it to a point and pressing it against Armin’s hole, pushing past the ring of muscle and inside of him. Armin cried out, rocking against Jean’s mouth, thighs shaking, breath coming out in short pants. 

“Oh god, fuck, Jean,” he gasped as Jean pushed deeper, fucking him with his tongue. 

He was going to crazy if Jean kept It up. But then Jean was pulling away and Armin let out a whimper. No, that was the wrong direction, Jean couldn’t stop because he needed – There was a touch to his shoulder. 

“Armin? You still with me?” he asked. Armin drew a shaky breath and nodded. 

“Yeah that was…I mean…wow,” he said. Jean smirked. 

“We’re not done yet,” Jean promised, and his voice sent a shiver down Armin’s back. 

“Oh trust me, I know,” he said, pushing himself up onto his arms and dragging Jean beneath him, he moved to the nightstand to get a condom from the drawer and ripped it open, taking Jean’s hard, slightly curved cock in his hand and stroking it gently, teasingly. Jean hissed beneath him, bucking his hips up a little. 

“Come on Armin,” he said, almost pleading.

Armin smiled and pressed a kiss to Jean’s cheek before rolling the condom on and straddling his hips. Armin took a deep breath and rose up on his knees. It had been a long time since he’d done this. But Jean was beneath him, warm and trusting and patient and God Armin wanted him so bad. He slowly sank down, feeling the tip of Jean’s cock press against his entrance, and then he slid inside. Jean’s eyes rolled back as Armin gradually took him inside, feeling the stretch and burn and the undeniable pleasure of it. Jean’s fingers dug into Armin’s hips, bruising, hot, real and Armin’s eyes closed as he seated himself fully, his hands curling into fists on Jean’s chest. 

“Oh Jesus, Armin, you feel…hell….you’re incredible, baby, so tight.” 

Jean’s pupils were blow wide and he looked up at Armin as if he’d never seen him before. He opened his mouth to say something else but Armin rolled his hips and a groan came out instead. He lifted himself up and then dropped back down, testing. It took him a few moments to get a good rhythm going but once he found one he kept at it, loving the slide and the heat and the stretch of Jean’s cock inside him. And then Jean’s hands flexed at his hips and suddenly Jean was thrusting up, meeting Armin as he moved down. He pulled his feet up, planting them flat on the bed, changing the angle and pounding into his prostate. The increase in speed and pressure and the feeling of Jean pegging his gland had Armin dropping his head, words and sounds tumbling senselessly from his mouth. 

“Fuck, Armin, you’re so sexy,” Jean growled. “Gonna cum, gonna cum watching you ride me.” 

That was enough to drive Armin over the edge. Pleasure tore through him, his back arching as he came, his cum landing in thick ropes across Jean’s chest. Jean thrust into him a few more times and then Armin could feel him twitching inside of him as he came. Armin didn’t move for a moment, just sat there panting and feeling Jean go soft. And then Jean’s hand was on his cheek, stroking softly. 

“You okay babe?”

Armin looked up at him and smiled, it was small at first but grew larger. 

“Babe?” he asked. He was sure if Jean’s face wasn’t already flushed from their activities he would’ve turned red. 

“Uh…that’s okay, right?” he asked. 

Armin laughed as he moved off of him, wincing just a little as Jean slid out. 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” he said as Jean sat up and tied off the condom.

Armin went and got a damp rag to clean them both up and then tossed it over to the dirty clothes pile before getting back into bed while Jean went to turn out the lights and lock the door. He yawned, feeling pleasantly exhausted as Jean returned and got under the covers beside him. Silence descended on them and Armin felt the pleasant atmosphere start to deteriorate. Now what? It was different than usual right? Because they were ‘together’ now? Wouldn’t Jean want to hold the person he cared about after having sex? But he couldn’t give that. Jean knew that. Knew he couldn’t – He felt Jean’s hand slid towards him, felt Jean’s fingers curl around his own. 

“Goodnight Armin,” he murmured. 

Armin closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“Goodnight, Jean.”

And no, those were still not tears stinging behind his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh and here is some more of the sex I promised earlier haha! Again, hopefully the late updates aren't a problem, though this one is a little later than I intended. Anyhow, thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

Armin woke to an empty bed and a note on his nightstand.  
Sorry to leave so early. I have to teach later and didn’t bring any clothes or anything. I’ll drop by the shop when I’m done. See you soon  
It was written in Jean’s hasty scrawl and signed with a heart and a barely legible signature. Armin rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. Part of him could scarcely believe everything that had happened. Never in a million years had he imagined that this would be the outcome when Jean dragged him into the bathroom at Connie’s that first night. But he certainly wasn’t going to complain that it had. Jean was….a good person. Armin was lucky. He wondered what Marco would say though. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t be angry…after all, Armin had still done what he’d asked, just not what he’d expected. He got out of bed and went to go shower and get dressed. He took his time, letting the hot water sooth his muscles. He was sore, but not unpleasantly so, and it had been so, so worth it, watching Jean come apart beneath him. Armin walked into the shop, coffee in hand and still grinning like an idiot. 

“Morning,” he said to Mikasa. She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re late,” she commented. 

“I am, aren’t I?” he replied, completely unbothered by that fact. She shrugged. 

“You’re the boss, boss.” 

Armin laughed and went about getting everything ready for the shop to open. 

“Marco called and said he had a flat tire and he’d be in as soon as he could and Erin had a dentist appointment this morning so he’ll be in in the afternoon, assuming they don’t drug him up and yank all his teeth out,” she said as Armin flipped the open sign on. 

“I told him he should’ve gone sooner,” Armin said, not even the least bit sympathetic. 

He finally took a seat behind the counter and spun around on the stool, full of restless energy. Mikasa watched him curiously for a few moments and then smiled at him. 

“You told him, didn’t you?” she asked. Armin cocked his head. 

“Jean,” she clarified. “You told him whatever it is you’ve been carrying around with you for so long.” 

Armin frowned. 

“What are you-”

“Did you think we didn’t know?” Mikasa interrupted, though her voice was gentle. 

“I might not always be the most talkative and Eren might have a thick head, but we’re your best friends, and we’re not stupid. We knew something changed after you and Erwin broke up. But we figured you’d tell us whenever you were ready.” Armin chewed his lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Mikasa, I just-” 

“No, don’t apologize. I’m…glad, that you found someone to tell, even if it wasn’t us. I’ll admit, I’m curious, but I know that just because I’m your friend I don’t have to know all of your deepest, darkest secrets. It’s enough that he knows, and you seem happier because of it,” she said, holding up a hand to stop him. 

He took a deep breath and nodded. 

“I told him. I was trying to break things off with him, actually. Marco, well, Marco made it clear that it was in Jean’s best interest for things not to continue like they were.” 

“I didn’t know Jean needed a baby-sitter.” Her tone was more curious than accusing. 

“He doesn’t but…he’s like Eren in some ways, I guess; doesn’t know when to give things up. I was…hurting Jean, and it took Marco pointing it out for me to realize it. So I was going to break it off with him and, I just ended up telling him instead and well…now we’re dating I guess,” he said sheepishly. 

Mikasa looked momentarily surprised and then surged forward to cup Armin’s cheeks in her hands and kiss him on the forehead. Armin blinked, surprised at the sudden affection. 

“Mikasa?” he asked. 

“I’m just…very happy for you Armin. I know you’d never complain about it, but I know you’ve been…lonely. I’m just, happy for you, okay?” she said, trying to sound stern. Armin just smiled gratefully. 

“Thanks Mikasa. I’m…happy too,” he agreed. 

Just then the back door opened and Marco rushed in looking thrilled. 

“Oh Armin I’m so happy I could hug you, but Jean told me not to so I’m just going to shake your hand,” he exclaimed, clutching Armin’s hand and shaking it vigorously. 

“Well, good news sure does travel fast,” Armin remarked dryly. 

Marco laughed. 

“If it makes you feel any better he didn’t text me last night, told me when he got in this morning,” Marco said cheerfully. 

“Well, if he had managed to let you know last night I’d have been surprised. We were ah, a little exhausted,” Armin said with a smirk. Marco’s smile morphed into a look of horror. 

“Oh my god, I did not need to know that, jeez,” he sputtered. 

Armin laughed and clapped him on the back good naturedly. 

“Did you get your bike all fixed up?” he asked. Marco nodded. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t find any holes in the tires so I must’ve just gone too long without filling it up.” 

“Why don’t you take the bus?” Armin asked. Marco shrugged. 

“Jean’s always offering to drive me if I want, but I like riding my bike; keeps me in shape. Plus it’s eco-friendly,” he said proudly. 

Armin rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. 

True to his word Jean showed up after he was done for the morning, or at least Marco poked his head in back to tell him so. It was another hour before he was done with his client and was finally able to go out and properly greet his boyfriend – a thought that was almost as strange as walking out to the front and kissing Jean by way of a hello. That sort of display had been off limits before, all of their bedroom adventures staying firmly in the bedroom. Now Armin felt…well, mostly comfortable doing it without hesitation. He had half a feeling that Mikasa was going to be snapping pictures to send to Sasha later whenever she got the chance. 

“How was class?” he asked. 

“Eh, the usual. We’re just starting the new semester so I’ve got my fair share of idiotic undergrads in my class, taking it just to fulfill their writing requirement,” he complained. Armin laughed. 

“I’m sure you can handle them,” he replied. 

Jean smirked.

“Yeah, compared to dealing with Eren it’ll be a breeze,” he quipped. Armin couldn’t see Eren but by the way Jean’s grin widened, Armin would guess that Jean had been given the bird. 

“So anyway, I wanted to see if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight, you know, like as a proper date,” Jean said, tucking a few strands that had fallen loose of Armin’s messy bun behind his ear. 

“Oh? No subterfuge this time?” Armin teased. Jean turned endearingly red. 

“No, no subterfuge, just me asking my new boyfriend out to dinner,” he said. 

Now it was Armin’s turn to blush. Jean said it so easily, and so plainly that Armin couldn’t help but feel like an idiot for pushing it away for so long. 

“Alright,” he agreed. 

“Eren, would you mind-” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll stay and close up tonight so you can go be gross with that loser,” Eren promised. Armin grinned at him. 

“Thanks,” Armin said, blowing Eren a teasing kiss. Eren swatted it out of the air with a grin. 

Armin left early enough to throw on some clean clothes and be waiting anxiously by the door for Jean. He felt…giddy? He’d had a lot of hookups in the last few years but a real date? That he actually _knew_ was a date? He tried to remind himself that both he and Jean were on somewhat of a budget and that there was no way Jean could do anything _too_ outlandish, but then again, it was Jean they were talking about. Jean sent him a text to let him know he was downstairs and Armin hurried to lock the door and meet him outside. 

“Well, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” he asked, trying not to sound breathless. If he did, it was probably because he had taken the stairs two at a time. 

“Well I was going to tease you but you look nervous enough as it is,” Jean pointed out. Armin scoffed. 

“Me? Nervous? What the hell would I be nervous about?” Armin asked, crossing his arms. 

Jean squinted at him for a moment and then decided to think better of whatever he had been about to say. 

“Anyways, I hope you like carnivals,” he said instead. 

Armin blinked. 

“Carnivals?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! Sorry for the late update. I spent most of yesterday on a plane and by the time I got back I was too tired to do anything besides go right to bed. But anyways, enough of my life story! I hope you liked the latest update; I wanted to make sure Mikasa got her fair share of time with Armin, seeing as they're best friends and all, so hopefully I was able to capture that well enough. As always for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

“I can’t believe you won this for me,” Armin said for the umpteenth time that evening as he struggled to get the giant stuffed animal up the stairs to his apartment. 

To be fair it probably would have been easier if he and Jean hadn’t stopped for cocktails and had enough that they’d had to leave Jean’s car at the bar and squeeze themselves and Jean’s token of affection into the back of a cab. 

“I told you I’d win you something,” Jean reminded him. 

“I know. I just didn’t expect to be – woah – so big.” He had stumbled a little on the last stair, unable to see it around the mass of fluff in his arms. Jean put a hand out to steady him as he laughed. 

“Easy there, tiger,” he teased. 

“I’m not a tiger,” Armin protested, shifting the prize in his arms. “ _This_ is a tiger.”

Jean snorted with laughter. 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he agreed, following Armin onto the landing and down the hall to his apartment. 

“Here, hold this,” Armin said before pushing the wild cat into Jean’s arms so he could go for his keys. 

Jean pretended to stagger at its weight and Armin let out a laugh, loud and joyful. If he were more sober he’d be worried about waking the neighbors, but at the moment he wasn’t, so he didn’t. When he straightened up he found Jean looking at him from over the top of the tiger’s head.

“What?” 

“I like your laugh,” Jean said earnestly. 

Armin felt his cheeks grow hotter and it was a moment before he could come up with anything to say. Admittedly, it was not very clever.

“I like yours too.” 

He turned and unlocked the door and then Jean shuffled him inside with the tiger, swiping at him with its stuffed paws and making ridiculous growling noises. 

“Oh my god, Jean stop!” Armin practically giggled as Jean chased him around. 

Eventually the man corralled him towards the bedroom with a few more deadly swipes of stuffed claw and cornered him against the foot of the bed. Then Jean tossed the animal to the ground and stepped back as if to take a running leap. Before Armin could even let out a squeak of protest Jean was sailing past him and flopping face down onto the mattress. Armin snorted and scratched his head. 

“Is this some new method of seducing me?” he asked. Jean’s response was muffled by the comforter. 

“What was that?” 

“I _said_ , if I was trying to seduce you, you’d be seduced,” Jean repeated, kicking his shoes off. 

Armin raised an eyebrow. 

“I would, would I?” 

Jean nodded. 

“Yes, but as it just so happens, I don’t want you seduced.” Armin frowned. 

“You don’t?” he asked, more curious than anything. 

Jean shook his head.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, having sex with you is great but…well, we’ve been doing that for a while. I wanted this date to be something we haven’t done before,” he explained. Armin’s expression softened and he smiled. 

“Okay,” he agreed. “What’s next then?”

“Well….” Jean trailed off and cleared his throat, his face turning redder than anything having to do with alcohol. “I hadn’t really planned this far ahead,” he admitted. 

Armin laughed and moved to sit beside him on the bed. Jean tilted his face up and Armin leaned down to press their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. It didn’t last long though, as Armin swiped his tongue against Jean’s lower lip and pressed inside when the man’s lips parted. Jean reached up to tangle his fingers in Armin’s hair and it only took him half a second to decide that he was okay with the feeling. When they finally broke apart Jean blinked up at him, seeming almost dazed. 

“Tell you what, how about we do something familiar for the rest of the night, and then tomorrow you can make me breakfast and I won’t make myself look like an ass this time,” he suggested giving Jean a seductive smile.

Jean smirked at that. 

“Don’t strain yourself,” he teased. 

Armin laughed, pleased by the familiarity that existed between them again. He crawled over to straddle Jean’s hips and leaned down to kiss him, but stopped. His eyes were searching and his lips hovered inches away from Jean’s. Then he pulled away, shifting to stretch himself out along Jean’s body, laying his head on his chest. 

“Armin?” Jean asked quietly. 

Armin didn’t reply, only took a deep, somewhat shaky breath. Laying like this he could feel the heat of Jean’s body soaking through both their clothes, feel the press of their bodies together as they breathed, hear the strong, steady rhythm of Jean’s heart. Jean’s arms remained blissfully at his sides as if he knew without being told what Armin was trying to accomplish. The gesture left him with a gratitude he couldn’t describe, because Jean understood him. He had meant it when he said he wanted to work through it. And since it was just him lying on top of Jean without anything holding him in place, when Armin began to feel overwhelmed he could focus on the openness behind him and remind himself that he was in control. 

“Can you take your hair down?” Jean asked after a long moment. 

Armin struggled with it for a moment, reluctant to pull away but not wanting to dig his elbows or limbs into Jean’s sternum. Finally he got it loose and his blond length hair went tumbling down around his shoulders. 

“Can I?” Jean asked and Armin was confused. 

But Jean had done nothing he hadn’t wanted so far, so he nodded. A moment later he felt Jean’s hand running though his hair, his nails scraping gently across his scalp in a way that Armin found soothing and pleasant. Even with Jean’s arm up around the back of his head to accomplish it he still didn’t feel trapped. 

He had thought the alcohol had worn off, but now its affects were catching back up with him. He felt his eyes drift shut and he made a contented noise as Jean continued. There was a soft pressure at the top of his head – a kiss – and a soft murmur of, “Sweet dreams, Armin,” and then he was asleep. 

When he woke in the morning Armin found that he had been undressed to just his boxers and the decorative pillows that matched the comforter were stacked along his back. He could hear Jean snoring softly on the other side of them. He was torn between wanting to smile at Jean’s thoughtfulness and regret that it was necessary. And then he remembered how he had fallen asleep last night and the regret faded quickly. Outside of sex that was the closest he’d been to anyone in a long time. It had been…nice. A little frightening, but nice. And he wasn’t even hungover. 

Quietly he extricated himself from the sheets and blankets and made a quick trip to the bathroom before coming back to the bed and tossing the pillow wall unceremoniously to the floor. Jean was still very much asleep lying as close to spread eagle as he could get on his half of the bed. Well that was just perfect for what Armin had in mind. 

Jean woke several minutes later to Armin’s mouth wrapped around his quickly hardening cock and he groaned, cracking his eyes open just enough to look down and see Armin looking up at him with mischief in his blue eyes. Jean dropped his head back to the pillow with another groan and Armin would’ve smiled to himself if his lips were not otherwise occupied. He showered Jean’s length with attention from his tongue and his lips and, when he leaned up to kiss the man, his hands until Jean is trembling beneath him, almost falling apart. 

“Armin,” he rasped, when the blond pulled away. 

Armin pretended not to hear him while he slowly kissed his way down Jean’s jaw and neck, over his collar bone and pausing to give a nipple a sharp pinch with his teeth. Jean let out a hiss and Armin soothed the sting away with his tongue. All the while he was pumping Jean’s shaft slowly with his hand. 

“Armin please,” Jean whimpered. Armin couldn’t help himself. 

“Please what? I won’t know if you don’t ask.” 

Jean shivered and Armin got the feeling Jean enjoyed being made to beg more than he lets on. 

“Please stop teasing me,” he said, his voice wavering. Armin raised an eyebrow and pulled away. 

“Stop teasing you?” He was sitting on his knees between Jean’s thighs, looking but not touching. Jean squirmed as he realized the error of his words. 

“Baby, please, please, I need you inside me,” he pleaded.

It was the endearment that did it.

Armin surged forward, clambering onto Jean’s chest, pinning his hands down and kissing him, hard. Jean was pliant beneath him, letting Armin take what he wanted until he was satisfied. 

When he was he pulled away again, this time going for the lube and condoms. He took his time prepping Jean, nothing like the mechanical, awkward motions of the last time they had done this. He stretched him slowly, pressing a first finger in to the knuckle and then, once Jean was ready, adding another and then carefully scissoring him open. He loved the noises Jean was making; breathy little gasps for air, the occasional shuddering exhale that Armin felt ripple through Jean’s whole body. He was incredible, and Armin could’ve spent the entire night like that, just to keep hearing him. Eventually though Jean reached down and grabbed Armin’s wrist.

 

“Please Armin, I’m ready,” he said. 

Armin nodded and then tore the condom open, rolling it easily onto his own hard cock. He was facing Jean this time, he was able to see the look on his face as he pressed inside, that not-quite-pained wrinkle of his brow as he adjusted, the way his eyes flew open when Armin thrust deep into him. Jean’s face was so expressive and Armin loved it. When Jean gave him a little nod, Armin knew he was good to continue. He fucked Jean in slow, shallow movements, angling himself to hit that spot that made Jean see stars. 

And then Jean’s ankles crossed at the small of his back, locking his long legs around Armin’s waist and Armin froze, a wave of panic overtaking him. It took Jean a second longer that it usually did but he quickly dropped his feet back to the mattress. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I just…more,” he gasped, somehow managing to turn an apology into something sexy. 

Armin forced himself to let it go, holding up a hand to silence Jean. It took him a moment to collect himself again, but Jean waited as patiently as he was able to. And then Armin gave a nod. 

“I can give you more,” he promised, winding his arms under Jean’s knees and bringing his legs up until Jean’s calves were resting on his shoulders. 

And then Armin began pounding into him, fast and relentless, making Jean all but scream his name. Part of it was that he loved seeing Jean go crazy beneath him, but part of it was releasing the adrenaline of the panic that had seized him so suddenly. Jean’s face was screwed up in what Armin might have been worried was a sob if it weren’t for the noises of obvious pleasure that were streaming from his lips. 

“God you’re so beautiful like this, Jean,” Armin praised. 

Jean’s answer to that _did_ sound like a sob. 

“Touch yourself,” Armin growled. 

To his credit, Jean at least made an effort. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around his cock but it was only there a few seconds before he cried, “Fuck, Armin, I’m cumming!” 

And as he clenched around Armin, his muscles contracting around his cock, Armin came as well, thrusting through the peak of his orgasm and then slumping against Jean’s bent legs as he came back down. Both of them were panting and Armin felt Jean reach up to brush some sweaty hair from his face. 

“Good morning, by the way,” he said and Armin snorted and shook his head. 

“Good morning,” he agreed. 

Jean let out a breath of air when Armin pulled out and Armin leaned down to kiss the momentary distress off his face before getting up to take care of the condom. 

“So does that count as breakfast in bed?” Jean asked with a grin. Armin threw a pillow at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! I hope you all enjoyed the latest installment! Fear not about late updates for the next few chapters as I've got most of them already written or thoroughly planned out. I don't want to put a cap on it but I'd say the fic will probably be slightly less than 20 chapters for those of you who are curious. In any event, thanks for reading and I hope you all have a lovely day!


	11. Chapter 11

Everyone went out to Connie’s the next night to celebrate to and to be honest, Armin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so damn happy. Everyone was getting along, getting pleasantly drunk and being good-naturedly obnoxious. Eren and Mikasa were regaling Jean and Marco with tales of Armin’s most awkward childhood experiences while Armin tried to act embarrassed but couldn’t stop laughing. Sasha treated them with a round of her newest creations, on the house in Armin’s honor and Connie insisted on buying him a drink. 

“I didn’t realize my dating life-” – “Or lack thereof”! Eren interjected – “was such an inconvenience to all of you!” Armin continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, trying and failing to keep a straight face. 

Some of Jean’s friends showed up too as the night progress, including Reiner, Berholdt and Annie. Reiner clapped Armin on the back and congratulated him while Annie teased him about finally putting Jean out of his misery. Armin wasn’t quite sure how to take her ribbing; it had felt a bit like a barb, but he ignored it. She didn’t seem angry, and everyone else was certainly in a good mood. 

They laughed, they talked, they danced, Marco thrashed Armin solidly at a round of pool and Mikasa ended up doing belly shots off Annie. They were there until the bar closed and then they all went their separate ways, laughing and grinning and making promises to do it again soon. Armin should’ve realized it was all too good to last.

Two weeks later started out like any other day. In fact, the whole day was like any other day; Armin gave Jean a kiss goodbye after having spent the night at his place, and offered Marco a ride to work – which he refused like he always did – and stopped to pick up a latte on the way in. Marco managed to beat him to the shop and Armin could only stare at him while Marco grinned at him with the closest to smugness he could ever manage and Eren and Mikasa walked in just a few minutes later. 

The day was uneventful; they didn’t get any weird, or rude customers – excepting the one individual who requested a monkey on his stomach so that his belly button looked like it’s asshole – and Jean and Armin were going to go see a movie that evening. Everything was as it should’ve been and Armin was just waiting for Jean to come get him – they had split up the driving for their dates and Armin had driven last time – when his phone began ringing. Armin glanced at the caller ID and then answered it. 

“Hey Jean, what’s up?” 

“Just wanted to let you know I’m running a few minutes late,” Jean said, sounding breathless. 

Armin chuckled, unsurprised. 

“You could’ve just texted me,” Armin pointed out. 

“Yeah but it’s hard to navigate the stairs and my keys and text you all at once. How would you feel if I fell and broke my neck?” Jean quipped. 

Armin laughed again. 

“Okay, okay, you drama queen. How long do you think you’ll be?” He asked. 

“I’m just walking out of the building, so-” Jean stopped abruptly. 

“Jean?” 

“Yeah…what the fuck? There’s a bunch of cop cars and shit out here. I mean I heard the sirens but I figured they-” Jean had gone silent again, and for some reason panic tugged at Armin’s insides. 

“Jean?” 

There was a clatter, like Jean had dropped his phone. Armin could hear yelling, indistinct and frightening, almost like howls. 

“Jean?” he asked again, his voice rising in pitch with nerves. 

There was no answer. 

Armin pulled the phone away from his ear in horror and then leapt off the couch. Logic would’ve told him that it was best if he stayed put, that Jean would call him back and explain everything. But Armin’s fear was overriding anything resembling reason at that moment and just a minute or two later he was running full bore out of the building and to his car. Jean was fine. He was totally okay. Armin would get there and Jean would smile at him and apologize for worrying him and everything would be just fine. It had to be. Oh god what if it wasn’t? 

Armin shook his head. He couldn’t let himself think that way. It was fine. Everything was fine. Armin didn’t remember most of the drive there, taking turns on autopilot as his mind scrambled for solid footing in all the chaos swirling around in it. When he got there Jean’s street was filled with flashing lights; the blues and whites of police cars, the reds of a firetruck. There was no ambulance. Armin’s eyes darted around frantically, trying to find a face he recognized.

And then he spotted him; Jean was sitting on the front steps outside their apartment, arms wrapped around his knees, looking so vulnerable that it broke Armin’s heart. He rushed up to him and without a thought dropped to his knees beside him and wrapped both arms around Jean’s body. 

“Oh thank god,” he mumbled into the fabric of Jean’s sweater, pressing his face against Jean’s neck.

He had been so scared, so downright terrified that all he could think about was the feeling of Jean, warm, safe, and alive, in his arms. But Jean didn’t move, didn’t react, just stared blankly at the scene before him. 

“Jean? Babe? What is it? What happened?” 

Jean’s mouth opened, closed and then he shook his head mutely. Armin pulled away and looked around, slowly beginning to take note of the details; the police talking to people on the sidewalk, a familiar blue bicycle lying mangled in the middle of the blocked off street. A pool of blood on the asphalt.   
“No…” he whispered, turning back to Jean in horror. “No, no, no, no. What happened? Where is he?” 

Jean didn’t move a muscle. 

“Why are you just _sitting_ there?” Armin demanded, rounding on him fully. 

Jean seemed to stare right through him. 

“Jean?” 

The brunet blinked slowly and finally appeared to focus on him. 

“Jean, _where is Marco_?” 

Armin felt his fists balling at his sides. Why wouldn’t Jean answer him? Didn’t he understand how worried he was? 

“He’s dead.” Jean’s voice was hollow and it scared Armin more than his words. 

“Hit and run, I guess. They took him to the hospital but…” 

Jean shrugged silently and Armin knew then why Jean was just sitting there. Marco hadn’t been lying there long enough to be declared DOA. Armin would find out later that he was pronounced dead en route to the hospital and that the yelling he’d heard on the phone was Jean trying to push his way through the mess of emergency personnel to reach him. 

“I must’ve…just missed him. I kept thinking it was kind of late for him to get home but…if I’d just looked outside. He was laying out there, all alone and I was only about a hundred yards from him. He died all alone. No one saw.” 

Armin just stared at him, gaping. He was hearing things right? Marco couldn’t be….Armin had just seen him earlier! He had…wished him a good night and…and now…Armin sat heavily on the stone steps as his knees gave out. He swallowed hard, feeling his throat constrict and the all-too familiar burning sensation as his eyes began to water. 

He wanted to say something, but what was there to say? Armin could barely wrap his head around it, let alone think of the right words to say to make Jean feel less like his entire world had just shattered around him. Instead he reached down and wrapped Jean’s chilled fingers in his own and gave a soft squeeze. Jean didn’t squeeze back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! First of all, I am _so_ sorry about the brief hiatus that this story ended up taking. Things in my life have been...crazy, to say the least and I've had a hard time writing because of it all. Anyways, I know this chapter is short, but I ended it where I felt it needed to be ended. To make up for both that and the two week break I'll be posting two chapters next week so you've got that to look forward to! As always, thanks for reading!!!


	12. Chapter 12

The funeral wasn’t much different from any of the other funerals Armin had gone to in his life; everyone was dressed in black, somber and speaking in hushed tones. The occasional smile was teary and sad, and every out of place laugh was just as likely to turn into sobbing as it was to be quickly hushed. There was no viewing – Marco’s family had decided against it. Instead there was a ceremony at the cemetery where a priest spoke about things that Armin didn’t really care about. He was too busy watching Jean, who was sitting next to Marco’s parents, staring at the black casket. 

Armin hadn’t spoken to him since that day, not that he’d tried much. Part of him knew he should be there next to Jean, trying to offer whatever comfort his presence might lend, but another part of him preferred to remain standing in the back with Eren and Mikasa beside him. It was…safer here. 

After the burial there was a reception in some hall nearby. Here everyone congregated and gave their condolences to the family and gave whatever speeches they had been unable to give at his graveside. Armin gave his sympathies to the Bodt’s, telling them how wonderful it had been to have Marco in his life, even for such a brief time and what a good person he had been. He could tell they were surprised by the length of his hair and the gages in his ears and the hints of tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his suit jacket, but they didn’t say anything, just gave him watery smiles and thanked him for being there. After that, Armin wasn’t really sure what to do. Most of his friends had congregated on the far side of the room, but Armin didn’t feel like going over to them. Especially not since Jean was so obviously missing. 

Armin glanced around the room, searching for him and finally spotted him standing over in front of the sort of impromptu altar that had been set up, looking intently at a large, framed photo of Marco. Armin started to walk over to him, but Jean seemed to have sensed him coming and looked up before he was even halfway there. Their eyes met and the world seemed to come to a halt around him. Then, Jean gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Armin felt his throat constrict but he forced himself to nod, and then turned and walked away. Between that silent rejection and the weight of the loss in the pit of his stomach it was all Armin could do to keep a straight face out to his car. The moment he was inside though, he lost it. He wasn’t sure how long he was out there, crying quietly in a display of what he could only describe as weakness, but nobody came to look for him. Eventually he sent Eren and Mikasa a text telling them that he had needed to go and then drove home.

It was hard to say what happened after that, which of them really contributed most to things falling apart, but all Armin knew was that it had been two weeks since he’d heard from Jean, and after a while he’d stopped trying to get in touch. But it wasn’t until Reiner came in for the final touches to his tattoo that Armin learned the truth; he wasn’t the only one on ignore. None of them had seen Jean since the funeral and he had stopped going to his classes as well. It was like he had disappeared off the face of the earth, except they knew exactly where he was. 

“Yeah, Bertie and I went over to his place and tried to get him to open the door. We knew he was there, but he wouldn’t answer,” Reiner said with a sigh. “Eventually we just went home. If he doesn’t want to talk we can’t make him. I mean what was I supposed to do, kick down the door?” 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Armin couldn’t help but smile at that. He had no doubt that Reiner – with his impressive physique – could have done just that. 

“I just wish he’d talk to someone, you know? It can’t be good for him to be cooped up in there all alone.”

Armin remained silent, glad that at least Reiner wasn’t blaming him for the silence. That made one of them at least. 

Once Reiner was gone Armin made sure he didn’t have any other appointments and then told Eren and Mikasa that he was leaving for the day. Armin got the feeling they knew exactly where he was going, and the looks they exchanged only served to confirm it. When he approached Jean’s door about a half hour later he frowned. There were several bunches of flowers sitting outside it, wilting and dropping petals on the floor, dying from neglect. 

He sighed and clutched the take out bag he had brought more tightly in his hand. He was going to do this. He was not going to let Jean shut himself away. _He_ wouldn’t be pushed away. Not again. Armin knocked on the door and huffed out a breath when there was no answer. He knocked again, harder this time. 

“Open up Jean, I know you’re in there!” he yelled. Still nothing. Armin pounded on the door this time. 

“Dammit Jean, let me in! I’m not going anywhere until you do!” 

Finally he heard movement and then the door opened and Armin took a step back in surprise. Jean’s hair was a mess, sticking up at all sorts of strange angles and piecing together in the way that unwashed hair tended to. There was untrimmed stubble along his jaw, chin, and neck and his eyes were red and puffy with dark bags beneath them. He stared at Armin blankly.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked. 

His voice was rough, like it hadn’t been used in a while.

“I brought you food,” Armin said, pushing past him and into the apartment. 

It was as much a mess as Jean. Dirty clothes were strewn about the floor and dirty dishes and empty beer cans were piled high on the coffee table. The end table was stacked with discarded pizza and Chinese food boxes and there was a messy nest of blankets on the couch, as if Jean had been spending an unhealthy amount of time there. 

“Is there any place clean for me to set this down?” he finally asked. 

Jean looked around slowly and then, to Armin’s growing irritation, he shrugged. Armin rolled his eyes and tossed the sack onto the couch before picking up a handful of plates and silverware and taking them into the kitchen. He stopped short when he reached it though, looking around in surprise. It was spotless, like Jean had hardly been in here at all in the weeks since anyone had last seen him. What the hell had he been doing all alone in here? Armin sighed, feeling a wave of pity sweep over him. Angry as he was for Jean’s behavior, he reminded himself that he had to try for patience and understanding. Jean was suffering. 

He grabbed some clean dishes and forks and took them back to Jean. The man hadn’t moved while Armin was gone. For the first time, Armin noticed the total silence. The TV was off, Jean’s laptop was nowhere to be seen and Armin knew perfectly well that his phone was turned off – or more likely dead. 

Armin took a deep breath and set about putting some food on both plates, feeling strangely self-concious knowing that Jean was staring at him. Armin finished his task and then, not trusting Jean not to do something else to annoy him, grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him onto the sofa. He held out the plate and Jean took it silently and at least began eating without being prompted. Armin watched him mutely, neglecting his own meal. Finally Jean stopped, lowering his silverware and looking up at the black-screened television rather than in Armin’s direction. 

“You’re staring at me.” 

“You look like shit,” Armin said by way of explanation. 

Jean grunted in reply. 

“Have you been sleeping?” Jean gave a noncommittal shrug. Armin exhaled slowly. 

“Jean, please, I’m worried about you. We all are. I know this is hard for you but-” 

It was like something in Jean finally snapped. He practically leapt to his feet, sending his still mostly full plate of food clattering to the floor. 

“No you don’t Armin! You have no fucking clue! Marco was my best friend! I barely even remember what my life was like before him and now he’s just, just _gone_! No I haven’t been sleeping, because every time I shut my fucking eyes I just see him _lying_ there, all bloody and lifeless and-” 

Jean stopped abruptly, looking drained. Armin reached for him instinctively but Jean jerked away. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to be alone,” he muttered. 

Armin tried again, forcing himself to keep his calm. 

“Jean, you aren’t alone in this. Marco was our friend too.” 

“It’s not the same,” Jean said half-heartedly. Armin breathed in deeply and tried another approach. 

“Please Jean. It’s killing me to see you like this,” he said gently. 

Jean snorted derisively and Armin’s eyes widened. 

“That’s just like you,” Jean said. “Always making thing about you. Everything has been about you since we met, about making sure you could trust me, waiting for you to get over your issues, bending over backwards to make you comfortable. But this is about _me_ and I’m not going to let you turn it around and make me the idiot or the bad guy again.” 

Jean may as well have physically slapped Armin across the face for as much as those words stung. He swallowed hard, not trusting himself to speak even if he _could_ find the words. After a moment he stood up and licked his suddenly dry lips, and then, without a word, walked out the door. Jean stayed where he was, sitting silently on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I know, I know, I promised that I would be posting two chapters this week, but I have changed my mind because I realized that the next chapter will most likely be the last and I wanted a little bit longer to perfect things and end them just how I wanted, so hopefully I haven't broken anyone's heart. As always, thank you for reading!!


	13. Chapter 13

Armin spent the next few days trying to sort things out in his head, oscillating between fury – how dare Jean accusing him of being so selfish? – sorrow – Jean was hurting so badly and there was nothing he could do to help – and resignation – maybe Jean was right? After all, Marco was gone, Jean was suffering and here Armin was playing the victim. He tried not to let it affect his work, but that was easier said than done. The art didn’t come as easily to him anymore. His customers, who he’d always been able to please, were dissatisfied with his designs, asking for redraws and frowning when he showed them sketches that had taken him hours. He found himself struggling to choose the right colors and textures when they were in his chair. Nothing looked right to him; it all looked dull and ugly. He was a wreck and everyone around him knew it. Eren and Mikasa were booking almost twice as much work while Armin’s appointments dwindled, which he knew was a problem because with Marco gone they were back to jigsawing their schedules to make everything work.

Armin was beginning to wonder of perhaps he ought to just stop tattooing and be the one to work behind the desk. He hated the thought of it but he wasn’t doing anyone any good. Every time he sat down to sketch something it was like his mind went blank. Eventually, after staring at that plan white sheet for what sometimes felt like hours, days, even, he inevitably gave it up and snapped the sketchbook shut. He had just done this when Eren walked over to him from behind the counter.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” he asked. 

Armin blinked up at him, surprised, but nodded. Eren took Armin out behind the shop and Armin was grateful for that. If Eren was going to say what he thought he was, Armin was glad the conversation was going to be away from any prying eyes. 

“What’s up?” Armin asked, despite already knowing.

Eren took a deep breath and Armin braced himself for some sort of explosion. Instead Eren ran a hand through his hair and looked out at the parking lot. 

“Look, I know you’ve been miserable the last few days and I don’t know if it’s because of Marco, or Jean, or what, but you know, Mikasa and I are here for you man. You can talk to us if it’ll help,” he said. 

Armin stared at him. He had expected Eren’s usual brash mannerisms, for his friend to offer to go beat some sense into Jean if Armin wanted. For a second Armin gave a serious thought to tell him everything; what Jean had said, how hurt he was, how afraid he was that Jean was right. Instead he took a deep breath and reached forward, embracing Eren in a way he hadn’t been able to in years. Eren hesitated for a moment and then reached his arm around, patting Armin on the back. 

The hug didn’t last long, but there were a lot of unspoken things there, and one thing stood out in particular; everything was going to be okay. It wasn’t now, but it would be. 

“Thank you Eren. Really. It means a lot to me that I can count on you and Mikasa. I just…think it’s going to take a little more time, is all,” he said. Eren looked at him for a moment and then nodded.

“Take as much time as you need. And if you want I’ll even go beat some sense into that idiot’s head,” Eren said with a grin, flexing one of his arms for show. Armin gave a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in days. 

“Thanks Eren. You always know how to cheer me up,” he said. 

After that he briefly considered going back to Jean’s to tell him that he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of him that easily, but in the end decided against it. Jean obviously had his own issues to work through at the moment and as much as Armin wanted to help it was clear his presence did more harm than good. So instead he settled for sending Jean a simple text message:

_I’m here when you’re ready_

Jean didn’t respond, but then, Armin wasn’t expecting him to. The message was out there and that was all that mattered. Days passed, but Armin felt surprisingly calm about it all. He spent most of his time at the shop managing the desk rather than tattooing, but he sketched a lot. It was easier when there wasn’t the pressure to perform, to come up with some great masterpiece that would be forever etched on someone’s skin. 

He drew what he felt like drawing, in whatever style he felt like drawing and with each one he finished it was like some sort of release for him. Perhaps he wasn’t the best at expressing his fears and weaknesses out-loud but he could certainly do it through his art. Worry for Jean was a constant presence in his mind, but it was muted, shuffled into the back of his thoughts where it couldn’t take root and choke out everything else. So when the bells above the door chimed a little over a week after Armin had last tried to contact him, Jean was the last person he expected to walk in. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood at the door, staring at the spot on the couch where he’d spent so much time before everything changed. Finally he seemed to make a decision and he walked over to the counter where Armin was sitting. He had been watching quietly, curious as to why Jean was here. Was it to apologize? Break up for good? Something else? Jean cleared his throat. 

“I want to get a tattoo done.” Armin blinked at him. 

“A…tattoo?” he repeated.

Jean nodded. 

“Yeah, my friend…passed away recently and I wanted to get something done to remind me of him. I have it on good authority that your shop is the best in town,” Jean said. Armin gave a soft smile as he came to a realization of his own. 

“Well, you’ve heard right. Our other artists are busy right now, but I can slot you in if you’d like,” he said. 

Jean nodded. 

“Okay, and what would you like?” Armin asked, already knowing what Jean would say. 

“Birds. Flying away.” Armin nodded, opened his mouth ask Jean more or make some suggestions about the design and then changed his mind. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked instead. Jean’s eyes shot up to his, searching. And then he nodded. 

“Where do you want it and how big?” he asked. After he got the specifics Armin took Jean back to his station. He thought about saying something else, asking where Jean had been, how he was doing. But he was afraid that if he did it would break this strange, surreal spell they were under. Jean sat silently on his chair while Armin sketched and Armin could feel his eyes on him the entire time. Despite that though, the silence wasn’t unpleasant. Armin wasn’t sure what had changed, but obviously something had. When he looked up, their eyes met. Jean gave a smile that almost seemed shy, hesitant somehow. Armin returned it with a smile of his own and then returned to his drawing. 

When he finally finished he held it up for Jean to inspect; a large tree with its leaves being blown away as if by an autumn breeze, and the ones that the wind carried away turned into birds. The roots of the tree were a series of complex and delicate swirls and curves. 

“It’s…Yggdrasil, the tree of life,” he said, feeling self-conscious for the first time. 

“It’s perfect Armin,” Jean said, and there was such emotion in his voice that it broke Armin’s heart. 

He swallowed hard and nodded as Jean removed his shirt and lay down on his stomach while Armin finished prepping. Then, he got to work. Armin worked diligently, starting with the outline, trying to be mindful of the fact that this was Jean’s first tattoo. 

“How are you feeling?” Armin asked, pausing and lifting the needle away from Jean’s skin. 

“Is it wrong for me to say that I actually feel kind of good?” Jean asked, and there was note of something like shame in his voice. “I mean it hurts but…in a good sort of way. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” But he didn’t have to, because Armin knew exactly what he was talking about. 

“It’s almost…cathartic,” Armin said quietly. “It hurts, but the hurt is good because it gives you something to focus on other than the gaping hole inside, and at the same time it’s making sure you can never forget him, it’s keeping him in your head and on your skin. It’s like a physical anchor for all the pain and love you feel.” Jean shifted, staring up at him. Armin gave a small smile. 

“I’ve gone through it enough times to know what you’re going through,” he said. Jean looked somewhere between curious and ashamed and Armin knew he was thinking of their argument. 

“Not now,” he said gently. “Today isn’t about me. Tell me more about Marco. I want to think about him while I do this, and I didn’t have the chance to know him as long as you.” 

And so Jean did. He talked while Armin worked, telling him about all the mischief they had gotten into as kids, the way Marco had always been there for him, even through high school where – according to Jean anyways – his goal in life had been to be an asshole to literally everyone. He talked until his voice grew hoarse and there were tears on his cheeks and Armin’s hands were cramping from holding his needle for so long. When Armin pulled away again Jean hastily wiped at his cheeks. Armin sighed and leaned back, cracking his neck and shoulders, wincing at the popping noises. 

“I’m sorry Jean…I don’t think I can finish it today,” he admitted, glancing down at the floor. 

He heard Jean shifting into a sitting position but didn’t look at him as he stood to get the items he needed to wrap the tattoo up for the night. He turned when he felt Jean’s hand around his wrist. Jean hooked his fingers under his chin, tilting his face up and then Jean was kissing him. It was soft, gentle, and achingly sweet. It didn’t last long, but long enough for Armin to move forward and slot himself between Jean’s knees as Jean’s arms wrapped around his waist. And the strange thing was, rather than pull away Armin wanted to get closer to him, wanted to squeeze him tighter and grip him harder until they were the same being. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against the top of Jean’s head, smelling his shampoo and feeling his soft hair brushing against his cheek. 

“I missed you,” Armin breathed. Jean didn’t say anything just squeezed Armin more tightly. And Armin felt safe. He didn’t feel smothered or scared, just…safe. 

“I didn’t mean it you know, any of it,” Jean finally said. 

Armin was quiet for a long minute. 

“I…know that. It still hurt but…I know,” he said, pulling back so Jean could look up at him. 

“After, I didn’t know what to do. I thought about calling you or showing up at your place but I just…couldn’t. And I kept thinking how ashamed of me Marco would be, especially because I know what he’d tell me to do in that kind of situation and then when I couldn’t make myself do it I just felt worse. And I was…so scared, because I’d lost him and I was afraid that I’d pushed you away and lost you too. And then you texted me and…I know I didn’t reply but I’ve never been so relieved in my life,” Jean murmured into the fabric of Armin’s shirt, where he had buried his face before speaking. Armin ran a hand through Jean’s hair, scratching his scalp gently. 

“I almost let you go,” he admitted, “But I wanted you. And yeah, so maybe it proves your theory, but I wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easy. I just knew it would be better to give you time.” 

He felt Jean smile against him. 

“Anyways, let me finish-up and we can go back to my place for the night. I think it’s time you spent some time away from your apartment,” Armin commented. 

Jean nodded and let Armin wipe the excess ink and blood off and bandage him up. Eren and Mikasa had already gone home for the night and there was a note on the door from Mikasa reminding Armin to call them if he needed anything. Armin felt a rush of gratitude. 

“You’ve got some dedicated friends there,” Jean commented, reading the note over Armin’s shoulder. Armin turned, giving him a small smile. 

“Yeah, I really do,” he said gently. 

“I half expected Eren to come break down my door,” Jean said playfully. 

“Oh he offered,” Armin assured him, keeping his face neutral. 

“He – wait, really?” 

Armin’s face split into a grin. 

“Of course. What did you expect?” 

“Well, thanks for not letting him,” Jean said, sounding almost uncertain. Armin just laughed in response. Jean’s back was tender so he had to spend the drive laying stomach down on the back seat but they were able to talk freely now, both of them. They didn’t talk about anything important; they didn’t need to. They knew they’d have plenty of time to work out the kinks between them. For now both of them were just glad to have the other. 

There had been banter on the ride about going home and having some fun between them, but when it came down to it they were both exhausted, physically and emotionally. Instead Armin took Jean by the hand and led him to the bedroom where he helped him out of his shirt before letting him get into bed. Jean lay down on his stomach and turned his head to watch as Armin stripped down. And then Armin did something that neither of them would forget for a long time; he crawled into the bed and tugged on Jean’s arm until Jean was lying with his head on Armin’s shoulder and his arm over Armin’s stomach. 

There was a drawn out moment of silence then and Armin held his breath, waiting for Jean to ask if he was sure. Part of him dreaded it, because no, he wasn’t. He wanted this, and he wanted Jean close to him, next to him, all around him, but his heart was still thudding in his chest and if he wasn’t . 

“Armin?” Jean asked into the darkness. 

“Yes?” Armin breathed. Jean gave a gentle, careful squeeze to his middle. 

“Thank you.” All at once Armin felt tears spring to his eyes. 

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice cracking just slightly. 

He took a deep breath and focused on the steady rhythm Jean was tapping into his side – probably to help him calm down, Armin thought, as the cadence slowed somewhat. 

“Armin?” Jean asked again. 

“Yes?” 

“I think I love you.” 

The tapping on his side sped up and Armin realized that Jean was playing out the beat of his heart. He swallowed hard as the silence stretched out. 

“Jean?” He whispered. 

“Yes?” Jean replied. 

“I think I love you too.”

Jean’s lips curled into a smile against his bare chest and Armin closed his eyes, the expression mirrored on his face. He drifted to sleep not long after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY OMG. As has been the case fustratingly often lately I had a lot going on both personally and with school and just...didn't have the drive to write, so the story sort of fell by the wayside, but don't worry, it's finished now! (Though I'm strongly considering writing an epilogue. We'll see) I also know I usually post on Sundays, but I'll be up north with no internet this weekend and didn't want to leave you all waiting even longer. So, for those of you who came back to see the story's finale, thank you! You guys have all been awesome and super supportive!


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